


Introduced species

by vmprsm



Series: Kylux Virus AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Dirty Talk, KoR is only mentioned, Like a lot of science, M/M, Mental/Emotional Instability, Scientist Hux, aka kylo is a bit crazy and hux is a bit repressed, but like in not the way you are expecting, corrupt government, graphic depictions of violence is for the epilogue only, i dont know what to tag this honestly, mentions of violence/gore, or rabies au, science!!, side character cameos its fun, virus AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6802528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vmprsm/pseuds/vmprsm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The <i>Lyssavirus</i> in question today, known medically as the Malind Virus, so named after Malindi, Kenya where the virus was first isolated, is colloquially known as a type of rabies."</p><p>"There are 17 other species of <i>Lyssavirus</i>, what’s one more? The difference is, Malind doesn’t kill."</p><p>“I’ve been studying this virus for five years, and teaching about it for one. I seriously doubt you know more than me.”</p><p>“I know what it feels like to be free.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, friends. This fic has gained traction so now I must disclaim:  
> I am not a virologist, immunologist, or doctor of any kind. I'm a nerd with entomology and anthropology degrees and a loose grasp on human physiology. This fic _will not be accurate_. I am aware RBCs don't have DNA. For my purposes, I'm taking that creative liberty because really, super rabies doesn't exist either.  
>  No more comments on that fact, kay? I spent way too long researching everything else.  
> <3

 

 

_You carry yourself_  
_Like the lines in your pocket_  
_But you lack the simple courage_  
_To move out of your parents' house_  
_I'm calling you out_

When Hux first met Kylo, they were in chains. Hux was snapping at anyone who came too close, even attempting to reach around to the man holding his wrists, but the muzzle over his mouth was not the only thing holding him back and his behavior was mostly for show, the drugs in his system slowing him steadily towards unconsciousness. He glanced over, then did a double take at a large man with dark hair and darker eyes, instinctive mind recognizing one of his own. Feral did not mean mindless, Hux would say to the psychiatrists and doctors who interviewed him later, poking him with far too many needles and checking his antibodies every two hours. He could tell predator from prey.

When Kylo first met Hux, he was waking up in quarantine, a metal box of a room where he was strapped to a bed with thick leather. He turned his head and regretted the action, the scrapes on his face brushing the pillow covered in a rough antimicrobial case. He did see the man next to him though, copper hair and eyelashes that both brushed his cheeks shining in the light from the high windows, too high for even him to jump to, and wondered how so willowy of a man could hurt anyone, afflicted or not.

-

“The _Lyssavirus_ in question today, known medically as the Malind Virus, so named after Malindi, Kenya where the virus was first isolated, is colloquially known as a type of rabies.”

Dr. Braeden Hux stood in a large lecture hall, boasting an impressive 300 seats, all of which were filled. The hall was nested near the center of Johns Hopkins University, one of the most scientifically advanced institutes of higher learning in the country. He was speaking to a class of medical graduates, the course he was dropping in on (by request of the professor) focusing on viral research. There was a large projection screen behind him, showing an image of the virus under an electron microscope and the bold title 'Malind Virus (MALV)'.

“The history of the Malind Virus is murky, and started 20 years ago. According to pieced together reports from December 1996, the initial source of the virus is a Capuchin monkey. Before you ask, no, Capuchins are not native to Africa. This monkey was a pet, brought to the country by a rich village chief with clearly too much interest in bribes.”

He pressed the arrow on the clicker he held, and the slide changed to an image of a Capuchin, and a line with a question mark above it.

“The monkey, according to witnesses in the village, started acting strange one day and attacked his master. Not surprised. But, the monkey ran off into the forest, and the village chief came down with a fever, headache, confusion, and muscle spasms. All classic symptoms of rabies. One week into his symptoms however, he recovered. There was no further issue until a month later, when a particularly blistering day saw the chief with heatstroke, and he attacked a villager attempting to help him before running in a fever-induced frenzy that killed several people, before one man with a particularly nasty butchering knife killed him. When the WHO picked up his body and attempted to isolate the virus, they found they didn’t recognize it. This was the first recorded case of the Malind Virus.”

He paused, sipping water from a bottle. “It is assumed that the virus was transmitted to the monkey by a bat, the natural carrier of most species of _Lyssaviruses_. What species of bat is not known yet, as bats consist of one-fourth of the mammal species in Kenya. A bat-capture undertaken in the area after the virus was discovered yielded no results, despite catching 15 species of bats in the area. Unfortunately, that region of Kenya is even now under a state of medical emergency, and has the highest concentration of people affected by the Malind Virus to date.”

Flipping the slide again, the screen now showed a map of North and South America, with black dots scattered across it, concentrating in tropical and coastline areas.

“To date, there have been 357 cases of Malind Virus in the western continents. 198 of these cases are in South and Central America, and the remaining 159 cases are in the United States, with Canada having no confirmed reports. This is over a twenty year span, and there is no animal vector that has been pinpointed for bringing the disease from Africa.”

Click. Hux looked over the crowd. Everyone was attentive, taking notes and watching him closely. “But the prevalence of the virus is not what interests virologists. There are 17 other species of _Lyssavirus_ , what’s one more? The difference is, Malind doesn’t kill. Those who have died with Malind Virus did not die of it.” What he did not mention were the cases in which the poor bastards were killed before they could be diagnosed, afflicted in a backwater village where attacking your neighbors was cause to get shot first, have questions asked at your funeral. Technically, they died of it, but that wasn’t the point.

“Those with Malind never advance into the paralytic stage, which ends in death. Encephalitis can occur when what is called a furious episode is triggered, but inflammation recedes after the episode ends. What is most interesting to virologists is this: why does a virus genus that almost exclusively kills higher mammal hosts sit so calmly in a human host?”

The slide flipped to show a cell, with an area highlighted. “You all know what this is, I hope. The cytoplasm of a cell. Unlike most other kinds of rabies, Malind doesn’t keep producing new copies of the virus once it comes out of incubation. Malind can be, as I said, triggered. Only during these times do the symptoms appear as the virus rapidly multiplies and flows into the bloodstream to cycle through the body and into the brain, nervous system, and muscles. Otherwise, the virus sits here, quiet in the cytoplasm of blood and muscle cells, and the host can go about their lives. Another point of interest,”

He paused again, seeing a hand up near the back. It was somewhat rude to ask a question in the middle of a presentation, but medical students were more often verbally impulsive versus polite.

“A question?” He asked, gesturing with his clicker to the student.

“Could you expand on the symptoms of Malind? What happens during a furious episode?”

Hux pushed back a sigh, letting his chest heave silently once as he looked at the student. Either they knew exactly what Malind was already, or was too damn perceptive for their own good. He did not like talking about that part, but that was what people wanted to know.

“A furious episode is when the virus gets triggered by a suite of changes in the body. Most studies, few as they are, seem to pinpoint a cocktail of stressors including increased heart rate, blood pressure, breathing rate, and temperature. This is, generally, coupled with a release of several hormones in an order known as the fight or flight response. That response is usually the final straw, so to speak, and the virus begins to multiply via negative-stranded RNA replication. These new viruses bud out of the cell and begin affecting various organs.”

He clicked forward a few slides, showing what he knew everyone wanted to really see. The image was of a woman, the snapshot blurry and dark from a phone camera in 2006. She was crouched over a man, and even though the image was greatly pixelated around his face, it was obvious he was not going to survive the encounter given the red stain covering his torso.

“Common symptoms during a furious episode are confusion, high muscle tension, anxiety, sometimes hallucination, and extreme aggression. A person during a furious episode is not using their higher brain functions. It is postulated that the frontal lobe of the brain is almost entirely silent during a furious episode. They are being driven by the virus that wants to get into a new host, and will attack any living creature in sight, but will most always go towards a fellow human, even if an animal is closer. Some signs of a person entering an episode are pupil dilation, hyperventilation, sweating, muscle spasms and facial twitching, and sudden heightened awareness with anxiety.” Hux ticked them off as if reciting a grocery list. “Given long enough, a person will come out of a furious episode, but it’s best to put them into unconsciousness before they hurt themselves or others. However, to come back to what I was saying.” He eyed the student to make sure they had nothing else. They looked cowed. Good.

“Another point of interest is that furious episodes are not the primary method of transmission between humans. For other mammals, it is. But in humans, it’s most often secondary, just another side effect of the virus being in most of their tissues. The frequency of transmission via saliva or blood is only about ten percent, and increased salivation does not occur. The virus is most often passed sexually, through the seminal fluid of males and vaginal lubrication of females.”

He clicked back to the slide he had previously been on, and clicked forward again. “It all seems very convenient, doesn’t it? It’s almost like this species of rabies was designed for us. Now, scientists are wondering: was it? Did that quick stint in a monkey mutate the virus, and was it transmitted back into the bat population, ready for human infection? Can it be put into remission, given how generally dormant it lies in humans?”

-

When Hux woke in the hospital, he was already fully aware of what had happened. His dreams had been riddled with memory, blood under his hands, flesh in his mouth, the screams of the man below him echoing across city blocks. Looking down revealed he was clean now, in a light blue hospital gown and tucked carefully into crisp white sheets.

He looked around, trying to find a nurse to let her know he was awake, his strapped wrists unable to press the call button. Well, wasn’t that useless. What if he choked on his own saliva, or had something else equally ridiculous happen as he lay tied to a bed? His complaints went out of the metaphorical window as he laid eyes upon the man in the next bed over, the curtain between them left open by some forgetful caretaker.

The man was asleep, shoulder-length hair fanned out in a dark halo on the pillow. He had a few scrapes on the cheek Hux could see, one gash on the high arch of his cheekbone, held together with two stitches. His nose was long, his face was long, hell _all_ of him was long, his feet pushing against the footboard of the bed. Hux himself just barely fit. His mind flashed with familiarity, a deep recognition. This was the man with him in the transport van, the one he had quickly labeled _one of us_. He shook the thought away physically, wincing as he rattled around his sore brain. That sort of thought was an animal one, brought on by the fever and confusion of the episode. Hux wasn't part of anybody other than himself.

The nurse came in, and as the man jerked awake from the noise Hux looked away.

“Alright Ben,” she said pleasantly, “I’m here to change your IV bag and check your side.”

“My name is Kylo Ren.” He growled at her. “Can't you read?”

She looked at his chart, and frowned. “Okay. I apologize. Can you tell me how you’re feeling? You can use the pain scale.”

“Fine. I would like to be released.” He was glaring at her, Hux could tell even without looking.

The nurse tsk'd knowingly. “You’ll have to get cleared by the director first, and he has to get clearance from the CDC. You may be in here a while longer. So again, pain on one to ten?”

She fiddled with his IV and he sighed angrily. It was foolish of him to ask, frankly. Anyone who had the Malind virus was closely monitored, and even more closely when they had an episode. They would be lucky to be out in the next week.

Hux waited his turn patiently, peeking over when she pulled back the man's covers and gown to undress a wide scrape on his side. It looked like road burn. What had he gotten into, a fight with a biker gang?

Hux himself was looking better off, but was still more sore than if he’d spent a whole day at the gym. His muscles all ached, and he grunted with effort as the nurse unstrapped him and had him roll over. The dark man, Kylo, wasn't the only one with a side wound.

He had to turn towards the nurse, and therefore toward Kylo, who was looking at him oddly. “You’re afflicted.” He stated without preamble.

“I would have thought that was obvious.” Hux groused, scrunching his nose in a wince as the nurse pulled off the gauze tape. It pulled at the edges of his wound, held together with many more stitches than the other man’s cheek.

“It was. You have nice eyes when you’re feral.”

Silence was really the only response to a comment like that. Number one, it was impressive that he even remembered such a small detail during an episode, let alone have an opinion on it. Two, what the fuck?

“Nothing about a furious episode is ‘nice’.” Hux finally said, the nurse having rolled him back over and now shining a penlight in his apparently nice eyes.

“Hm.” Kylo replied, neither affirming nor denying the statement, and Hux let himself fall back asleep with the next dose of painkillers. When he woke again, Kylo was gone.

-

The slang term among those who consumed mass media was _super rabies_. Those more sci-fi inclined (with far too much time on their hands) called it the _zombie virus_ and called those who had it _afflicted_ , and _feral_ when in an episode. It was all ridiculous and overly dramatic, but it stuck in the mind. Sometimes even Hux caught himself thinking of those having an episode as gone feral. Afflicted was simply quicker to say than diagnosed with the Malind virus.

Still, he cringed inwardly when he heard someone else, unafflicted, use the terms. They were so casual about it, not knowing how much those people lost. It was like getting excited about the violence in a war movie, babbling on about AK-47s and IEDs not knowing there were veterans around. The virus, as strange and unique as it was, wasn’t a joke. It wasn't a movie. Hux was very aware, very real, and very dangerous.

-

The knock on the door wasn't concerning. Hux had bought some cookware off the internet recently, it was probably Fedex. He pulled the door open without looking, and became concerned when coming face to face with Kylo Ren.

Kylo glared at him from under the rim of a black hat that looked like it belonged on a messenger boy from the twenties. The wave of heat from the outside air made Hux want to curl his toes in distaste but he kept them flat, unconsciously shifting his weight forward over the balls of his feet. Kylo’s hair fought the hat, spilling out from underneath in a fluffy tangle. His eyes were stormy under the heavy line of his eyebrows.

“How did you find my address.” Hux hadn't seen Kylo since their brief stay in the hospital (brief meaning he'd only been held for a week rather than several months) but couldn't forget his long face and perpetually upset expression. Couldn't forget the way he looked in that van, skin flushed and chest heaving with exertion. He hadn't seen Kylo in six months, and hadn't expected to see him ever again.

“Wasn't hard. When you put yourself in the news people can find you.”

“Most people don't try.” Hux kept his hand on the door, body firmly centered in the doorway. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Kylo replied, hands buried deep in his pockets.

“About…?” Hux wasn't kind to strangers, especially ones who showed up at his house unannounced.

Kylo rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

“You apparently know of my research, seeing as you got my name from the news. That's all I have to say about it.” He moved to close the door.

Kylo shot a hand out, slapping his palm flat on the wood. Hux looked at it, surprised. Kylo’s nails were long, longer even than most women would wear them and still be considered respectable. Hux kept his cut very short, almost to the nailbed.

“No it's not. During your presentations you don't tell them you have it.” He was staring hard into Hux’s eyes, and Hux wouldn't let himself look away.

“It isn't their business. It has nothing to do with the research.”

“Would you be doing it otherwise?”

Hux had to concede that. “No. But they also don't need my motivations.”

“What are those motivations?”

“What does it...wait.” He paused, several things clicking together in his head. Ben, Boston, the virus.

“Oh my god,” he blurted, “you’re Ben Solo.” Kylo bared his teeth, fingers bending to let his nails scrape on the door but Hux kept talking. “You're the kid who got bitten when he was ten. The first recorded bite transmission _and_ one of the youngest cases to survive the initial stage.”

“My name is Kylo Ren.” Kylo repeated, sounding exactly as he did when he told the nurse.

“But you are that kid.”

“I’m only a couple years younger than you!”

“Yes, but you've been afflicted for almost twenty years, almost since the beginning.”

“Which means I know more about this than you.”

Hux was so startled he laughed and let go of the door. The frown Kylo sported deepened. “I’ve been studying this virus for five years, and teaching about it for one. I seriously doubt you know more than me.”

“I know what it feels like to be free.”

“What?”

Kylo gave him a look that said ‘of course’ and it put Hux on the defensive immediately. The dark man pushed the door all the way open, stepped in, and closed it behind him. For reasons that Hux would never be able to say, for he wasn't sure what they were, he let it happen. They now stood face to face, Hux crossing his arms and physically barring Kylo entry further into his apartment.

“Being feral. Letting it all go. That's freedom. You talk about Malind so clinically, how could you expect anyone to understand?”

“Understand _what_?” Hux asked, incredulous. “I speak clinically because it's a _disease_. This isn't some sci-fi movie, Jesus, the media is horrible. It’s not being feral, it's the virus affecting your cells. Our choices have nothing to do with it.” He couldn't even say anything about _freedom_ , that was a level Hux couldn't even begin to comprehend.

“You had nothing to do with that man's face you ripped off? You didn't attack the officers when they came to get you. You wanted him.”

Hux’s blood ran cold. Kylo had already been in the van when Hux was picked up, but he shouldn't have known anything about what happened. And it was something Hux very deeply did not want to think about.

“Get out.”

“No.”

“Now!” Hux pointed to the door behind him but Kylo only stalked forward, his huge frame looming and Hux had no choice but to back up further into the sitting room.

“I’ll call the police.”

“Will you?” Kylo laughed darkly, “Is that who you’ll call?”

Hux glanced to his left, at the side table nestled innocently against the couch. On it was a bright yellow button, palm sized, connected to the cordless phone. It was an alert button for the Malind response team, in case Hux got sick and the virus started multiplying.

Kylo looked as well, and smiled, his incisors looking almost unnaturally large behind his thick lips. He began breathing deeply and rapidly, and Hux suddenly realized that he had been wearing a jacket when it was ninety degrees outside, sweat shining on his brow.

“What are you doing!” exclaimed Hux, his heart rate rising as he felt a spike of fear.

“Showing you what I mean.” Kylo was beginning to hyperventilate in earnest, hands starting to quiver.

“Don’t you dare,” commanded Hux, holding out a hand. “Do not.”

“What, don’t think you can take me?” asked Kylo, as sudden shakes started jerking his chest and head.

“Damn it, man!” Hux lunged for the alert button on the table between them just as Kylo lunged for him, mouth opened wide and pupils dilated so far it was almost impossible to see the brown in them. Hux managed to slap it as Kylo’s weight hit him, bowling him over. He used his forearms to hold the other man off him, pushing them hard into the space between his collarbones and his throat. Kylos nails raked his upper arms, trying to get a grip, and the burning pain of it reached Hux's mind. Their faces only inches apart and Kylo snarling, Hux knew that the nearest affliction response team was ten minutes away, long enough for Kylo to break Hux’s guard and tear him apart, long enough to leave the apartment and attack who knew how many people in the area.

His chest and arms were trembling with need, as his fight or flight response kicked in hard. He could hold it off, he could stop from having an episode, but he couldn't stay alive that way.

Letting the anger that clenched his torso spread, Hux succumbed.

-

“State your name, please.”

“Braeden Hux.”

“Good morning Braeden, would you mind recounting what happened yesterday?”

Hux sat in a small room, clinical except for a ridiculous kitten calendar with nothing written on it and a mechanical sunlight-activated daisy. It wasn't moving, the blinds drawn. It was raining outside, and with Hux’s relapse so recent, apparently this doctor thought it best not to subject him to a view of water. It didn’t matter, he’d never had hydrophobia during or after an episode. Actually, given the recent research, it was unlikely that hydrophobia was even a symptom, given that furious episodes weren’t the main method of transmission.

He was aching all over still, even a week later, and surly enough to want to tell her his thoughts on her environment choices, show off the fact he very probably knew more than her about his condition, but the more agreeable he was the less likely they would keep him here. He shuffled the hospital blanket further up his shoulders to cover his neck from the freezing air coming from the vent. He hated hospital things. The beds, the clothes, the food, the colors, the temperature, all of it.

She was looking at him, studying his features and he wiped them clean. “It was just after four pm, I was in my apartment. I was in the kitchen, about to prepare dinner when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it and Kylo Ren was there.”

“Did you check to see who it was?”

Of course he didn't. He wasn't a man who was very concerned about other people. He lived in a fairly safe neighborhood, himself notwithstanding, and he was secure in his ability to sanely defend himself from anyone who wasn't a homicidal afflicted maniac.

“No.”

She gestured for him to continue.

“He came in and…” He paused. Was it a good idea to tell the truth here? There were two options. One, tell the truth, and throw Kylo entirely under the bus for the incident. It was his fault, why shouldn't he? But something in Hux said no. The other option, lie. That would likely throw himself under the bus, or rather the both of them. He couldn't spin this in any way where someone wasn't guilty, but did he want to possibly take the fall for Kylo’s crazed actions? The fact was they both went feral. Hux could have tried to hold him off the normal way, if he'd really tried he could have kept his cool, let the antibodies do their job and keep him together. He didn’t. Somehow, Kylo had been right. He had challenged Hux, and damn him, he had been right. Hux rose to it, whether in defense of himself or anyone else he couldn't say with certainty. He could choose to believe he did it to save lives. But. There was always the possibility he had been doing it simply because it was a fight and he didn't want to lose. It could even be because he wanted to.

The doctor was doing that _looking_ thing again, and he made a quick decision.

“He came in and we argued. I suppose we both lost our temper, threatened each other. And it just happened.”

“It just happened.” She repeated, scribbling something on her pad that Hux very likely would be angry to read.

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Did you hit the alert button on purpose?”

“Yes.” He had a medical device in his skin similar to a blood sugar reader that would activate an alert if the virus reached a certain concentration in his blood, but he hadn't been expecting to have an episode at all.

She looked up from her notes. “It says in your medical record that you haven't had an episode in several years, and now two in six months. Do you think there's a reason for that?”

“I don’t.” He clenched his jaw. That first one hadn't been his fault in any way. Someone had tried to mug him, and had a gun that looked quite loaded. Hux had tried to negotiate, been shot for the trouble. The bullet had only grazed his side, barely even scraping any of the muscle from his abdomen, but the sharp surge of fear and anger and pain had triggered it. He had ripped the man's face and chest to shreds before the response team tranquilized him. It was lucky no one else had been around at that time of night.

He believed his father was responsible for keeping him out of the hospital. The death of the mugger had been labeled self defense, and a wary looking police officer had come the day after Hux had been brought down to take pictures of his wound. Maybe he hadn't heard about this latest event yet. Or maybe he had pulled all his available strings already.

“Did you know who Kylo Ren was when you were both picked up by the response team six months ago?”

Hux looked surprised; they were digging. He and Kylo had been taken in for completely different events, how had they connected it? “No. I’d never seen him before.”

“It seems like he knew you.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.” She replied, undeterred by his casual attitude. “A sweep of his apartment revealed news clippings of you and your recent presentations.”

“It’s not surprising that someone who’s afflicted would be following those.” Hux tried not to stiffen his posture. “There aren’t that many of us, and a concise presentation of the research is hard to come by.”

She went back to writing notes, letting silence lapse between them for a minute before speaking again.

“What did you argue about with Kylo Ren?”

Hux stayed silent, trying to think up a convincing lie. Nothing came.

“It must have been quite something, for you both to trigger an episode, especially when you'd never truly met before.” She was prodding, trying to trick him into saying who instigated the fight, who triggered first. She wasn't dumb enough to believe they both attacked at the same time. “And your wounds--”

“Do you know what the bite force of a healthy human male is?” He snapped, and answered before she could. “One hundred and fifty pounds per square inch. Do you know how much force it takes to break a bone? Less than seventy five. It takes seven to rip off an ear. My injuries are not significant, given what humans are really capable of, when unrestrained.”

She looked shocked. Hux felt viciously validated. She needed to understand that this was not a game, and trying to manipulate him was idiotic. He didn't have any reason to bow to her every question, he didn't owe her an explanation. He did what he was supposed to do. He pressed the damn button and kept them from hurting anyone.

“I think that’s everything.” She said, and he left for his hospital room before she dismissed him.

-

The news came in a little white envelope that had confidentiality patterning on the inside. His name was stamped on, the return address for the research hospital in Florida that he had first been taken to after...well.

It had been delivered by a nurse as he sat, grouchy and glaring, in the sunroom, looking out a window at the garden outside. Sometimes he would have to look at _people_ also outside, but the scenery was nice enough otherwise.

He wedged a finger under the flap and ripped the envelope open. A sheaf of papers came out and he flipped through them idly, avoiding the words on the first page. It was a slew of test results, the most obvious being a measure of the antibodies in his blood, and the virus concentration in the past twenty-four hours. Less obvious was a kind of psych evaluation, which he was too tired to try and figure out at the moment. It had a lot of acronyms and scatter plot statistics, and he assumed he knew all he needed to about himself. It didn’t matter, what all the results meant was summarized very succinctly on the first page, which he flipped back to with some trepidation. He skipped the bullshit paragraph at the top and jumped to the line at the bottom, before the signature.

_Physician recommended time in recovery/observation: 6 months._

Hux almost crumpled the paper, opting instead to dig his blunt nails into his palm. It had taken him a full half hour with a scrub brush to get the blood out from under them, after he had been found fit to be released from the restraints. They had both been tranq’d hard, evidenced by the truly spectacular bruise that had blossomed on his back. With Hux’s apartment complex housing a few hundred other people, and with two of them in the same place they couldn’t take chances. Hux understood that. What he didn’t understand was why after he had been lucid and talking the nurses didn’t let him up for another six hours. Now this? He wasn’t an animal, he was actually one of the mostly highly controlled people with the Malind virus.

He could try to appeal, but unless his father stepped in, it was no use. The CDC took it so seriously, it was a miracle he’d been able to have the apartment in the first place, even with his once sterling record and its short distance from a response team.

The rest of the letter was some sycophantic bullshit, as expected, about why they were basically halting his whole life, and at the very bottom was an address in Baltimore. Hux’s stomach dropped. They were sending him to Johns Hopkins, hours away from his research and his home in Boston. If they were keeping him here he could maybe...well, it didn't fucking matter now.

He put down the papers and pinched the bridge of his nose, the sunlight through the window suddenly piercing. “Fuck.”

-

It had been a week since Hux was transferred to Baltimore, allowed to get on a plane by himself and even go to his apartment (supervised) to pack some of his things. The hospital was gorgeous, state of the art and massive, but that didn't mean he hadn't passed medical students who looked at him in surprise and recognition when their eyes flicked down to the medical band on his wrist and up to the cuts and bruises on his arms and face. The bruises had faded to a yellow-green, less obvious but still stark in the fluorescent hospital lighting. He had been given a room in the long-term wing, which wasn't really a wing at all. It was a series of buildings staffed by nurses at all hours, set off behind back of the hospital. They had their own gardens and miniature triage rooms in case of incidents. Most patients ( _residents_ he told himself sternly) had roommates, Hux did not. He was pleased but somewhat insulted, causing him to be in a strange snippish mood when he’d arrived.

He was allowed to wander the hospital, after all it lacked most factors known to be triggering to the virus, as long as he wore his medical bracelets, two plastic, one from each hospital, and one personal metal band that he hadn’t felt the need to wear in three years, and obviously stayed out of the Do Not Enter sort of areas. Nurses gave him lingering looks, employment in such a progressive place leading them to have a very clear idea of what the sunshine yellow symbol on his bracelet meant.

The bracelet felt like a brand to Hux, like the burnt mark on a bull that marked it as dangerous and claimed.

His room was sparse and mostly white, and he was thankful that they hadn't put up any stupid stock photos or, god forbid, _cut flowers_. His bed was comfortable enough, and the medical bedframe was at least somewhat disguised to look like a normal bed. There was a call button next to it on the wall.

Six months. He would be trapped in this place for six months, his research rotting away in his lab, papers sitting unfinished in his office, his apartment gathering dust. He had decided to keep paying for it, it wasn't as if he was hurting for money, with the hopes that he would be allowed back to it when this sentence was over.

Some people with Malind never left a hospital, or some form of government, specifically CDC, custody. Some people had such poor control of their bodies and emotions, or the virus was so volatile that they couldn't be trusted to be on their own.

He had already had his first weekly therapy session. He had railed against the idea, snapping angrily that he was perfectly well adjusted, he was a damn doctor for godssakes. That may have helped his case less than he’d intended. But either way, that had been part of the deal that had been forced upon him. Therapy was supposedly to help him work through the events, accept them and make plans on how to avoid an episode in the future. As if they could understand anything about how it felt to feel someone crushing underneath you, to be entirely aware even as your control slipped away from you. Yes, the ability to make directed decisions did leave you during an episode, but you remembered everything. It was through a haze, like a grainy old video, but Hux had excellent recall.

His therapist was a man, and he seemed to be very versed in possibly violent patients, his hair graying at the temples and his features sharp like a mouse. Hux did his very best not to give him any sign of his mounting frustration as their session wore on. He recited the basics of his childhood, his education at various private schools as his military parents moved about the country, his dedicated years of research into Malind. He couldn’t stop the irritable tone that crept into his voice when speaking about the last, still too bitter and sore.

“Braeden,” the therapist said. Hux knew he could remember the man’s name if he wanted to, but was being petty enough to purposefully forget it. “If you don’t want to speak about contracting the virus and the time after, you don’t have to, but don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Hux stared at him, openly scowling at both the casual use of his first name and his perception. “I don’t.”

“Alright,” his therapist replied, and not long after the session ended.

-

When the bruises had faded completely, and the clawed flesh on his arms had closed up into small white lines, Hux received another shock.

He walked calmly along the hallways of the long-term wing, an activity he had taken to doing daily, after he had gotten quickly tired of the looks as he wandered the hospital proper. Hux, despite his occupation, was not a sedentary man. In Boston, he had spent his early mornings at the gym, working himself until he was achingly tired, and then he would have just enough energy to go to his delicate and painstakingly slow work without feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He enjoyed being outside, but the small, building enclosed gardens had only satisfied him for a handful of days before he felt like climbing the damn walls. The circuit he had settled into around the wing took him through all three gardens still, the sitting area, the dining room, private room halls A through D, the entertainment room, past the meeting rooms, the offices of the doctors and therapists, and finally back to his room at the end of the E hall. At his leisurely pace, lingering in the green spaces to observe newly blossomed flowers and small insects, the trek took him about an hour and a half. It was barely enough to keep him from fidgeting through most of the day, but he worked off the last of it in the wing’s gym in the evening.

But just because he was physically fidgety didn't mean he was approachable. Besides his therapist, when he had no choice but to speak, he kept almost entirely to himself. His ‘resting bitch face’, as he had been told once it was called, kept most of the other residents away, and he generally gave as few words as possible to please the nurses. They had been fussing over him as his wounds healed, insisting on cleaning, medicating, and bandaging them at least three times a day. Their explanation was the high possibility of infection from human involvement, as humans were notoriously full of bacteria, but his explanation was that they were being annoying.

For someone, even in the medical field, to meet a person with Malind was rare indeed. The internet had created and propagated idiotic and unfounded rumors of the abilities of the afflicted, dragged together from too many zombie movies and the few grainy videos of Malind attacks. The average layman had no clue that someone with the virus was almost totally indistinguishable from someone without.

Unless, of course, they were scarred to all hell. Hux growled to himself that morning, pulling one of his long sleeved button downs over his undershirt. Kylo’s nails had been as vicious as they looked, and had shredded his arms in exactly seven lines from shoulder to elbow on his left, eight on his right. The unevenness bothered him almost as much as the scars themselves. He had needed two stitches in his forehead, in the meatier spot above his right eyebrow, where it had split apart when they had rolled into Hux’s side table. The only other mark that still showed was on his wrist, where the psychotic man had grabbed him in a tight grip, digging his claws into the soft flesh between his tendons. He had given out plenty of abuse as well, but the events had been fuzzy enough that he couldn't pinpoint moments in which he could have left a permanent mark. He hoped he had.

Buttoning his cuffs and straightening out his hair, he had sighed. Another day full of nothing to do. The wing did offer group entertainment, he wasn't fond of the idea. Hux had made his way to the sitting room, its primary purpose being where many residents would meet with visitors, but it also sported a sizeable library, with enough nonfiction and scientific texts to hopefully keep him amused through the next five months.

The pale color of the hallways made anything that was darkly colored glaringly obvious, so Hux could not help that his eyes were drawn to the hulking black figure walking swiftly down the direct middle of the hallway, a powder-blue-clad nurse hurrying behind him.

“Mr. Organa-Solo, please, I'm going to need you to return to your room so I can change your bandage.”

“It’s fine,” growled the figure, and Hux stopped short, his previously semi-light mood descending swiftly into simmering anger in his stomach.

Kylo lifted his head when they were only a few feet apart, likely seeing the tips of his dark shoes. His face looked more gaunt than it had that day in his apartment nearly three weeks prior, the dark circles under his eyes heavily pronounced. Hux clenched his jaw to prevent it from hanging agape. It was impossible that Kylo was here, not in this place that he already disdained so utterly.

Somehow, the psycho that had ruined his life had the gall to grin, his lips cracking open to reveal his too-white teeth. “Dr. Braeden.”

Hux snapped. It was not virus-induced rage, it was just rage, purely cold fury that he controlled to a specific aim as he shifted his weight back and swung forward, slamming Kylo hard across the cheek with his fist.

Kylo’s head whipped to the side, skin splitting on his cheekbone as he fell back hard onto the tiles. The nurse screamed then tried to rush between them. What an idiot. Hux held out a hand that connected firmly with her shoulder and he pushed her, holding her away as he bent down at the waist. He planted his feet on either side of Kylo’s knees and hauled him up by the collar with his free hand until their faces were only inches apart.

“My _name_ is Dr. Hux, you fucking _animal_.” He said, voice shaking with repressed rage. “How dare you speak to me. How dare you even _look at me_. You stay away from me unless you’d like to end up with worse than that,” he nodded to Kylo’s forearm. It was bandaged tightly, and Hux remembered, with a sudden vividness, his head turning and biting hard into that spot, blood welling up between his teeth. “I don’t need to be feral to rip you apart.”

Kylo laughed. A low sound from his chest, and Hux narrowed his eyes. “Your eyes are nice this way too, Hux.”

Hux dropped him as if burned, and Kylo landed back on his elbows, still laughing. Hux let go of the nurse and turned away, escaping down the hallway before he could do anything else.

-

Hux hid in his private room for days. It wasn’t like him to hide, but he was slowly regaining grip on his emotions. He had called the front desk, and confirmed: yes, Kylo was also staying here, having been transferred in only a day beforehand. What had held him up another week plus from their altercation? Hux had needed to shake the thought out of his head several times, what did it _matter?_ What mattered was that he was here, and that meant that Hux could never relax, or even pretend to.

He surged up from where he had been seated on the bed, hands buried in his hair. He paced the room several times. His pent up energy was going to be the death of him. “Dammit.” He muttered.

There was only one thing to do. He couldn’t stay in the room, he couldn’t kill Kylo, and he couldn’t just leave. That left ignoring his presence entirely. He had entertained the notion of simply fighting with Kylo enough to force either one of them to be transferred to a different hospital, but that would likely make his stay longer. It wasn’t worth it.

Nothing was worth being kept longer.

He grimaced angrily, snatching a hospital-white towel from the chair. If he wasn’t going to stay in the room he may as well go back to the gym.

-

Kylo was everywhere. The wing wasn’t gigantic, but it still had plenty of space for two men out of over two hundred people to avoid crossing paths. But it was like Kylo was a ghost, following him from room to room. Hux refused to look over, to even acknowledge his figure, and for two weeks they danced around each other, or rather Hux danced away from him. Every time they accidentally crossed paths or met eyes, Hux had to push back the urge to punch him again. The cut on his face from Hux’s knuckles healed well, but now he would have mostly matching scars across both cheekbones. It made him look alien and tribal, a look that fit well with his dark wardrobe and hulking frame.

On a Friday, after lunch, during Hux’s customary walk around the wing, after seeing Kylo no less than three times that day, they met again.

Hux couldn’t take it anymore. He whirled, catching Kylo in mid-step a respectable but still infuriatingly close distance away.

“I told you to stay away from me,” he said, trying not to yell. He clenched his fists hard at his sides, shoulders tensing automatically, and Kylo slid his foot back, cocking his hip in a lazy stance.

“I’m not near you.” Kylo replied, tipping his head to the same side as his hip and smiling slightly.

“Fuck you,” Hux spat before he could stop himself. He’d encountered Kylo for only a handful of hours but could not keep a lid on his temper. “What do you want?”

“I told you. I want to talk to you.”

“Last time you wanted to talk you then tried to kill me.” Hux seethed.

Kylo laughed. It seemed to be his favorite thing to do other than spew cryptic nonsense. “I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to show you. And I did.”

“Show me _what?_ ” He yelled, no longer trying to repress it. The nurses would probably come running soon. For the better, honestly. While he wanted nothing more than to stomp away from Kylo’s psychotic words, he could not make himself move.

“What it’s like to use your power rather than hide it away like a ghost in your bones. You didn’t kill me. I didn’t kill you. We simply scuffled until we were separated.”

“Scuffled? _Scuffled?_ ” Hux wasn’t the type to repeat himself; he was simply blown away. “You almost had the muscle torn out of your arm, I have scars from your freakish hands. That’s _scuffling?_ ”

Kylo gave him a look that was a cross between sympathy and incredulousness. “You can’t even say it was you.”

Hux tried very hard not to give away his shock. “That wasn’t me,” he said, flicking his eyes down and then back up, “that was…”

Kylo shook his head. “You don’t get it, Hux. But you will.”

 

 

  
_I am inside your head_  
_You try to spit me out_  
_But I consume you_  
_I locked all the doors so_  
_Now you're breaking in_  
_If you think I'm taking it_  
_No I'm not taking it you're just faking it_


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

_Tilling my own grave to keep me level_  
_Jam another dragon down the hole_  
_Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren_  
_One that pushes me along and leaves me so_

_Desperate and ravenous  
I'm so weak and powerless_

People who worked in the same lab as Hux called him standoffish. Students in the medical school at Boston University called him cruel. As per his contract with the school, he had to teach one class a year. They allowed him to travel and give presentations at other universities for the rest of his teaching requirement. He taught _Host Response to Viral Infection_ , a course that was part immunology and part physiology, an in-depth look at the human body’s reaction to viral infections. It was rumored to be brutally difficult, with exams that required the student to detail various physiological systems and reactions down to the last protein link. He was a professor, but didn’t so much consider himself one. His entire focus was on his research, and he had only taken one student in his last five years researching Malind, a squirrely but quite bright boy named Mitaka who needed little hand-holding in his studies. He had graduated last year, and it had been a point of concern for Hux if the school would force him to take another.

Getting sudden leave for six months had been tricky, they had thankfully just been gearing up to start the spring semester, and they only had to cancel one class. He had a recorded version of his course from a year prior, but he refused to offer his course online. He enjoyed the unpredictability a live course could offer, and the freedom to tweak his curriculum with the newest research. He also hated to fuss with the online course programs and webcams, with ridiculous attempts to force group discussion on forums and test formats that left no room for partial credit. He was of the mind that if a student could explain themselves in a way that was at least somewhat coherent, they deserved something. He was no fool, he knew he was a genius, and not every student could be held to the same standard or learn so effortlessly. Anyone could do good work with effort. Even if they didn't remember  _every_ protein link.

It was the loss of his research that was the real tragedy. He had been running some very time sensitive tests on a difficult-to-procure batch of preserved Malind, and by the time he returned the samples would be wasted, ultra-low freezer or not. He was unsure if he could get more. Much of his research thus far had been comparing existing data on Malind to other species of rabies, most often the elusive and non-bat hosted Mokola and Ikoma species, and writing grants to get his hands on the actual virus. He had entertained the idea, once or twice while on a late night after hours of staring at a sixty page grant that was _still not complete_ , of isolating the virus from his own cells, but that would compromise the credibility of the research if anyone found out.

While it was true that Hux never told his audiences or his students that he had Malind, there was a group of afflicted that knew and were following his work. He also knew several who would jump at the chance to offer their cells, tissues, semen, you name it if it meant that more research would come out about Malind. Once or twice he had been tempted to take them up on their offers. The group was small and dedicated, and while Hux no longer spoke in the group chats or in the very few honest Malind support forums, there were days when it was pleasant, almost comforting, to read of people’s feelings and struggles and know that he wasn’t alone. They knew he was lurking in the groups, and every year when he had his public presentation in DC he could pick out the faces of those who had it, who had come out to learn, but also to see him. They watched him intently, with hollowed looking eyes and tight expressions, and never tried to speak to him in person. He was doing something that they didn’t think they ever could: taking control of his life and his affliction, making a stand against the inherent loss of self that Malind seemed to bring. Then, he was doing one better, by doing his damnedest to fight back the only way he could, trying to expose the virus and beat it at its own game.

Well fuck, now he was starting to sound like Kylo, _personifying_ the damn thing. Hux yanked himself from the book he had been reading, really just staring at, and pulled himself quickly from the chair. The sitting room was mostly empty, but a woman with green hair fading into a dull grey lifted her head to raise an eyebrow at him. He paced out of the room and down the closest hallway. The doctor’s offices were small, and almost blended seamlessly into the wall, unlike most of the doors that had sunken-in entryways and dark wood to elegantly contrast the cream walls. It was a subtle way to try and remove the oppressive feeling of being watched, of the constant reminder that you were here to be _fixed_. He didn't need to be _fixed_ , he needed to go home. He needed to do the work that may pave the way to ridding the world of Malind. Or, at least ridding himself of it. Some people seemed perfectly content with what was ridiculously dubbed the zombie virus.

Kylo was not the first person to have some idiotic ideas about being afflicted. There were groups on the internet, very small but very vocal, who said that Malind was a gift, or the next step in evolution. Kylo, however, was the first he’d been forced to interact with. Frankly, he’d heard barely a collected paragraph out of the dark man’s mouth, and he had already branded him as a complete moron. Being dangerous and stupid at the same time was a recipe for disaster.

Make no mistake, Kylo was dangerous. Hux consciously rubbed his arm, just barely being able to feel the scar tissue under his fingers. Anyone with the consuming blankness of Malind behind them was dangerous. But Kylo was also built like a townhouse, tall but with a purposefully lowered center of gravity and a powerful wide chest. If Hux hadn’t spent time at the gym every day for several years before their meeting, there was a chance that Kylo would have killed him.

His fingers clenched, digging uncomfortably into the lines. That didn't matter anymore, because he was going to stay as far away from Kylo as physically possible, he was going to leave here in four and a half months, and he was going to continue his research and live normally.

-

Another session with his therapist had Hux grinding his teeth as he stepped quietly out from their allotted hour. He could tell the man was trying to circumvent his desire to not talk about anything related to him and the virus, and he wasn't having it. Their sessions were getting more tense with each passing week.

Otherwise their conversations were banal, and almost formulaic. Hux would talk about his week, skipping over anything related to the virus and by extension related to Kylo. Under no circumstance would he mention Kylo. The therapist would pretend to listen intently. He would then try and steer the conversation, and Hux would not-so-subtly block and redirect. He would talk about his research, about Boston, about his co-workers and students, about his parents even. Anything but the virus. The atmosphere of the room would become awkward, and not long after that their time ended and Hux escaped the room as quickly as he could without making it obvious. Not that the therapist wasn’t fully aware how little Hux wanted to be there, but he would at least pretend.

As the door clicked shut behind him he heard the creak of another opening. To his left another of the small therapist offices was letting out a patient. A tall one, with a wild mess of dark hair. Shit.

He swiveled hard on a heel to hurry the other way down the hall and got five feet before Kylo’s voice stopped him.

“What a coincidence.”

It was a mystery as to why he didn't just keep walking. He rationalized that Kylo would just follow him, so he may as well deal with him here. The soundproofing on the offices worked both ways, and no one else was in the hallway. If they were going to argue about unsavory topics, at least it would be private. And if he needed to punch Kylo again, at least no one would see.

“Not really.” Hux turned again on the same heel, the tip of his dress shoe clicking against the tile sharply as he put it down. “You have been following me.”

Kylo didn't even have the thought to look embarrassed, he simply shrugged a shoulder. “Not this time.”

“Of course.” How did Hux know that a therapist was even in the room he’d emerged from? He wouldn’t put it past the man to do something so strange.

“Walk with me.” Kylo said, and walked past Hux with a confidence that made punching him again seem like a very good idea. Still, despite his feelings, he followed, catching up easily and matching stride. Kylo walked very fast, like a man who needed to be somewhere. It was one thing they seemed to have in common so far other than being afflicted. He pushed the thought away as they rounded a corner into a more trafficked area.

“This way,” Kylo whispered, taking Hux’s wrist and yanking him sideways. A nondescript door swung open and then they were in the dark.

Hux went on high alert, his muscles tensing in anticipation of...well, anything. What he didn’t expect was nothing.

As his eyes adjusted to the tiny bit of light filtering under the door, he could just make out the glint of Kylo’s eyes and the zipper of his jacket. He had stepped back several feet. He had never met anyone so in command of the noise he made as Kylo was. When he wanted to be silent, he was. Hux couldn't even hear him breathe. He was almost loathe to break the silence.

But he did. “What do you want?”

Kylo smiled. “You like repeating yourself.”

Hux answered his smile with a sneer.

“You like me repeating myself too I see.” His grin sat firmly on his face. “I want to talk to you. We can’t be seen together too much out there, and I can’t go into your room. Fairly sure the nurses are scared you’ll punch me again.”

“They should be. I’m already tempted.”

“That’s fine.”

“It shouldn’t be fine.” Hux unconsciously closed his hand into a fist.

“I’m not afraid of pain, or injury. It all only serves to strengthen me.”

Hux barked out a laugh. “This isn’t some supernatural superpower, if you want to be strengthened then go to the gym.”

Kylo advanced, and Hux brought his arms up but Kylo stopped just short of his ‘give a fuck’ zone.

“There are only three real emotions. Only three things motivate everything we do.”

Hux waited. What the hell was he talking about?

“Those three emotions are rage, lust, and fear. Other emotions aren’t true. Love, sadness, anger, jealousy, all of them. They are simply diluted, twisted, or combined versions of the first three. We made them up. If you want to be stronger in spirit, you have to face those motivators and accept them as they are, use them to your benefit. Once you know what motivates you, you can control it. I don’t mind pain because I know that fear motivates me to react to it. I control that fear. Do you understand?”

Hux couldn't look at him anymore, and shifted his eyes to somewhere in the middle darkness over his shoulder. He thought he could make out the shape of shelving. “You didn't take many biology classes as a child, did you?”

Kylo gave him a puzzled look. “I did. What does that mean?”

Hux had to roll his eyes. “I should have expected you to go off about the soul and spirit and whatever else. The idea of the soul is a human construct. There's no little ball of energy dictating our every choice and feeling. There are no true feelings, as we’ve titled them. There are neurons, electrical impulses, and hormone releases in varying concentrations and makeups as a reaction to stimuli. We construct emotions and morals and perception of self to cope with our increased mental processing power. None of it is real. Unless you are working under the assumption that anything we create, tangible or not, is real, which is simply ridiculous.”

Kylo’s grin had drooped before Hux had launched into his lecture, but now it blossomed over his face again. “I knew I should talk to you.”

“Why’s that.” Hux asked in a deadpan tone. Kylo didn't seem deterred. It didn't seem anything could deter him.

“I was right. You’re starting to understand you just need help. You’re right, none of it is truly real. We, as individuals with names and personalities, aren’t real. Our entire presentation of self is a fabrication. But what is real is how we react to stimuli, and what we use to do so. _That_ is what makes what we call the spirit. Our reactions make us who we are. Nothing else is real. Malind is the purest representation of ourselves, and it works solely on the three motivators. You become feral out of rage, lust, or fear. That’s it. And it’s beautiful.”

Hux was almost beginning to listen, chin tilting up and eyes sliding back to look into Kylo’s. He spoke of a concept that they agreed on, somewhere in there, but it was so muddled by crazy that he couldn’t pinpoint it. At his last words Hux snapped back to full attention, incredulous again.

“It’s _beautiful_?” He made a face of disgust. “It’s insanity. It’s disease. It gets into your cells and your brain and forces you to...”

Kylo capitalized on his pause, “To _react_. It strips away everything that we don’t need, that makes us weaker by questioning ourselves. Malind doesn't need to think, it simply reacts and it shows who we really are with no reservations. It is beautiful. You were beautiful.”

The retort that Hux had on his lips died away in surprise. “Excuse me?” He managed to say.

“I said you’re beautiful. In those moments when stop fighting who you are.”

Where the fuck was that feeling coming from? It was like anxiety and excitement put together, zinging from Hux’s belly up his spine. He was _not_ flattered, nor even mildly pleased, about Kylo’s compliment, underhanded and insane as it was. Still, he held the taller man’s gaze.

They held steady for several moments, Hux breathing audibly through his nose and Kylo silent as the ghost he was so good at pretending to be, then Kylo took another step in and leaned forward.

It wasn’t until Kylo’s face was lined up with his and they were a foot away that he realized the intent. He yanked his head back and his fist shot out, landing a sharp jab square into Kylo’s nose. Kylo reeled back but didn’t make noise but to huff out a pained breath, and he slapped a hand over his nose. Hux smiled triumphantly. He really did enjoy punching Kylo. His fingers throbbed gently as he watched Kylo pull his own fingers away from his face, slick with blood. He didn’t look upset or pained, merely vaguely put-out and possibly irritated.

“You’re more insane than I thought if you believed I would let you touch me. Good to know we didn’t let the nurses down.” Hux said. Blood dribbled steadily from Kylo's nostrils and slipped over his lips to pool in the crease of his mouth. Hux had to tear his eyes away as he turned to grope for the door handle. He continued as he managed to grab it. “That isn’t broken, but you should ice it to minimize the swelling.”

-

What the hell was wrong with him.

What the _hell_ was wrong with him?

Besides the virus, Hux considered himself a very thorough, well thought-out, calm sort of man. He never made an important decision lightly, and never dismissed small ones out of hand. He was level headed and usually could tell a poor idea from a mile away.

So why the _hell_ was he thinking about Kylo Ren?

It had been two days, and every moment he wasn’t engaged in something else, and even sometimes besides, his mind wandered back to the closet, that moment of fear and surprise when Kylo leaned in. It hadn’t been his best punch, that was for sure, arm crammed up into a small space with little room to put his weight behind it. But the dribble of blood on Kylo’s lips was stamped behind his eyelids, and in memory that was determined to lie to him Kylo was in a brighter light, the red standing out sharply against his pale skin. He knew what the man’s blood looked like, knew what it tasted like, though he was loathe to admit it to himself. He hadn’t had an episode in years before recent events, and that time he had pushed the memories away violently, letting them settle into fuzzy obscurity. Now, constantly reminded of his actions, the memories bubbled up from where he pushed them and came into clarity. He could almost, if he concentrated enough, see the well defined marks of his teeth in Kylo’s arm as he was roughly pulled away from it to be tossed at the couch. He remembered, faintly, the pain that blossomed up his back as he hit the thinly covered couch arm square in the spine. It was lucky he didn’t have nerve damage.

Kylo’s eyes as he lunged at Hux again before Hux had rolled away were enormous, black as night and seemed to want to consume him in their emptiness.

Were they empty? He had always described Malind as being emptied out from the inside, as something else took over. Not everyone explained their episodes as such. Some people remembered feeling red, like the metaphorical seeing red that people experienced when they were angry. Some people said, in quick and quiet posts that they hoped were buried quickly, they it felt as an overwhelming wave, like arousal.

Hux’s stomach fluttered uncomfortably and he rolled over in bed, curling his knees up and shoving his arm under his head. What did it matter what people thought. What did it matter what Kylo thought, what he felt when feral. What did it matter what he had been feeling when he had tried to kiss him? What did it matter that, in retrospect, Hux might be regretting stopping him?

He used his free hand to punch the mattress, and it bounced under his blow. Of course, he couldn’t even let off steam successfully. Contracting Malind was basically a death sentence to anyone’s sex life, and for most people that meant the death of their romantic one as well. Hux had always been able to separate the two, but he would admit he was as hot-blooded as the next person, and romanticism never held much interest. According to preliminary tests, back when it was first discovered that Malind was contagious through sexual fluids, the transmission rate during unprotected intercourse of any kind was a staggering 0.1, or one in ten interactions. Transmission by saliva through an open wound or mucous membrane in a furious episode was only 0.001, or one in one thousand. When an afflicted person was under no stressors, and the virus was dormant, transmission rate through seminal fluids even with protection was still, at _best_ 0.005, or one in two hundred. Given the highly infectious nature of those living with Malind, it was a prosecutable crime to transfer it to another person, with their knowledge of your status or not. It was a more strict legality than HIV, with informed consent you were still allowed to have sex. At that point a partner was taking the risk into their own hands.

Malind wasn’t like that. The possibility of having a furious episode, to lose control and harm innocents, was enough risk to deem all sexual interaction or purposeful triggering of an episode, by any party, a crime. It was called _reckless transmission_ , or an _attempt to cause grievous harm_. Charges could range in severity from fraud to negligent homicide. Hux could understand their sentiment. If the spread of Malind wasn’t tightly controlled, they really could be living in the realistic equivalent of _World War Z_ in a relatively short span of time.

That didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t had sex in years, and its loss was, at one time, a major depressive point. After adjusting to the fact he was afflicted it had been less stressing, and eventually he had stopped thinking about it. Sometimes he woke with unsavory fluids in his sheets, but the idea of masturbating just to take the edge off, with no chance of anything or anyone else, was enough to swear him off touching himself. He didn’t really need it, no one did. But unfortunately, needing and wanting were often two very different things.

How was it that the man who had literally attacked him had gotten far enough under his skin to make him think like this? Hux flopped over on his back, letting out a large rush of air and tracking his eyes slowly over the paint marks on the ceiling in the dim light.

Point one: Kylo was assuredly out of his goddamn mind. Point two: Hux did not need another scandal screwing up his chances of leaving in four months. Point three: he was a proud, logical man and like hell was some afflicted asshole going to make him change his mind on anything.

-

Hux heaved his breaths, dragging them in through his nose to explode out of his mouth. The machine groaned under his steady pressure, lifting several hundred pounds at a forty-five degree angle from the floor. His legs burned and his feet were planted firmly up against the sliding weights. Average for his leg press was about five hundred pounds, but this morning he had simply kept adding weight until he felt like he was going to really tire after his reps. Not enough to tear something, but close. At the gym he went to in Boston, a quiet out-of-the-way place, he received a judgmental look every now and then from using the machine. He didn’t much care. If they wanted to ruin their backs doing squats, let them, but Hux was standing most of his work days and could do without the sore spine. After he slowly counted to ten, he let the weights slide back down to the resting position, and rolled out of the contraption.

His watch quietly beeped a reminder of the time, and he listened silently as it let out five chirps. Another night with almost no sleep. At three he had tossed back the covers and paced to the gym. It wasn't too horribly lacking in amenities and in his frustration he had managed to work out about seventy percent of his body in less than two hours. He still wasn't tired, and sighed as he dragged the large circular weights off the bar and over to the bench press. After this he would sleep, even if he had to demand medication.

Hux concentrated on his breathing, and tried very hard not to be drawn by the sound of the door opening.

A little noise of pleased surprise came from the general direction of the doorway, and Hux let the bar ease back onto the holsters so he could crane his neck back to the source.

Kylo was there, flourescent light from the hallway spilling in from behind him and giving his jacket a greyish hue. He looked at Hux, stared really, holding the door open with one hand. Hux knew his own face was a brilliant shade of red from exertion, flowing from his temples over his cheekbones and nose in a similar path to the freckles he never let emerge from sun exposure. He turned his head away, speaking to the wall.

“Are you stalking me?”

“No. I was wandering. I don't sleep well.”

“Shocking. Anyways, I’m here, and I would like to be left alone.” He hefted the bar back up, arms and chest straining in effort to hold it aloft. If was unsafe to lift so much without a spotter, but he frankly didn't give a damn.

“You come here to distract yourself.”

Hux let a breath prematurely out of his nose. “Well yes, there isn't much to do here.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean from life, from your need to live it, to do the things you’ve told yourself you can't.”

“I can do plenty of things. Right now, namely, exercise. Which I would like to do _in peace_.”

There was silence behind him, and after another set he dropped by bar back down with less care than he should have, stretching his head back again. Kylo was still there, upside down in his vision and now perched on the edge of a bench and picking at his nails.

“Why are you still here.”

“I’m allowed to be. I’m leaving you in peace.” There was a smart-ass tone to his reply that had Hux itching to toss him off the bench.

“That wasn’t the fucking-- _christ Kylo_ , I just want to finish here and go to sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

It felt like he knew. Against all logic, it felt like Kylo knew why Hux hadn’t been able to sleep for days, knew that it was his damn fault. And yet he still insisted that this was Hux’s doing.

“Get out.”

Kylo chuckled. “Now you know that doesn’t work.”

Hux dragged his hands through his hair and held them close to his scalp. “Why don’t you leave me _alone_.” He was dangerously close to whining, something he had never allowed, and bared his teeth.

He heard Kylo rise from the bench and cross the room, coming to stand behind Hux’s head and looming like a nightmare. “I don’t want to. I do what I desire to. Unlike you.”

The word _desire_ was his breaking point. The anger in his chest felt like an explosion that propelled him up and he grabbed the open sides of Kylo’s jacket, the same one he’d been wearing for days, and yanked him down. The psycho barely managed to avoid cracking his forehead on the bar still set over Hux’s chest as he’d hoped, stepping back to align their faces. Well fine. There were other ways to fight.

He snagged Kylo’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard. A tang of copper touched his tongue as the lip split, he hadn’t noticed they were so dry. Kylo did not react as he expected. He expected him to react in pain, jump away or at least hit him. Instead he let out a sound that was unmistakable, breath rushing over Hux’s chin as he moaned.

Hux let go immediately, scrambling and cursing the bar as it complicated his escape. Kylo reached out for him as he slid under and Hux grabbed his towel to make a quick exit. He was covered in sweat and his room had no shower, but he would live without until the sun came up and Kylo couldn’t stalk him with impunity.

He could definitely hear Kylo now, stomping up behind him and he whirled around as he got near. He reared back for another punch but the other man was ready, dodging it easily and advancing so Hux had no choice but to back up and bump into the wall next to the door. He glanced at it with dismay.

Kylo slammed his forearms into the wall on either side of Hux’s head, and looked at him intently. Blood streaked in a single line down the center of his chin like war paint.

“If you touch me it’s assault.” Hux said, putting on his professor voice. He’d made a student cry once with it.

“Not if you say yes.” Kylo opened his fists and dragged his ridiculous nails down the wallpaper gently, making a light scraping noise that was extremely distracting.

“I’m not going to.”

“You’re not?” He raised a mocking eyebrow.

Hux’s insides seemed to scream _'Yes'_ but he forced himself to look Kylo squarely in his dark eyes. “No. I’m not.” The man wasn’t even attractive, just angering and insane and reckless but Hux’s body didn’t seem to care about any of those things.

“You would feel better.” It didn’t sound like Kylo was trying to convince him, more like he was stating facts. That infuriating air like he knew everything. “How long has it been?”

“Not long enough for me to want to do anything with you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you stalked me to my home, attacked me, got me sent here, and now you will not cease to force yourself upon me in one way or another. Good enough?”

“Hmm.” Kylo lifted an arm and plucked the sleeve of Hux’s shirt from where it was plastered to his skin with sweat. After a moment he dropped it back down. It was cold.

“I can’t argue your perception of events, but if you insist on bringing it up, you attacked me too. Four times, actually.”

“I did not.” The words blurted out from his mouth but as soon as they hit air Hux knew they were a lie, and he knew Kylo knew it. Still, he had to commit. “I was defending myself.” A partial truth.

Shuffling his feet closer, Kylo closed more of the gap between them and pressed his plainly unfair height advantage over Hux. “Being feral isn’t about defense. It’s not about pushing things away. It’s about letting them _out_. Don’t keep things in, Dr. Hux, it’s what will kill you.”

Hux huffed a laugh, all of the exhaustion of the past few days settling upon him like a tense weight. “ _You_ are what will kill me.”

Kylo seemed to have no clever retort, or maybe he was tired of Hux’s admittedly poor attempts at turning him away. His hand that had been hovering over Hux’s shoulder dropped down, coming to rest on a hip covered only in the thin fabric of his gym pants. Just like that, Hux’s exhaustion vanished, and the tenseness warmed and surged into his limbs. He resisted the urge to check his pulse, but it felt as if it were inching up rapidly.

Brown eyes shifted up to meet his green ones, and Kylo gave him a questioning look. When Hux gave him no response, he shifted his hand and pressed it against the front of Hux’s pants.

He let out the breath he’d been holding in a soft puff, his lips stay parted as he breathed back in. The simple fact that someone was touching him was as arousing as the act itself. Kylo palmed him gently, like Hux would spook away any second. He wanted to, but his legs were locked in place, and his mind had coalesced into a point that was focused only on how nice it felt. After a minute Kylo moved his hand to slip inside Hux’s pants, but he grabbed the wide wrist and said, “Don’t.”

It seemed, for this moment, he wasn’t stupid enough to argue. He replaced his hand, gripping Hux’s cock through the fabric and dragging his palm up the length at a calm but firm pace.

Hux fought from making quiet noises of pleasure, only allowing himself to exhale harshly in sporadic bursts as the warmth built in his abdomen. It didn’t take long for him to finish, hands coming to grip Kylo’s jacket again as he pulsed into his underwear, letting out a sound he would never admit was truly a whine as he dropped his head back against the wall. Kylo worked him through it, and when Hux looked down his nose at the other man the brown of his eyes were almost overtaken by his pupils.

The horror of the situation descended and obliterated any lingering contentment. With the arm that was blocking him from the doorway removed, Hux fled.

-

Hux had taken to walking the hospital again, to get space from everything.

If by everything, he meant mostly Kylo Ren. Kylo seemed to be reluctant to go into the hospital proper outside of their little wing, and Hux found if he wanted more than a few hours alone during the day, he needed simply to cross the courtyard.

The dark man appeared to have enough sense besides to give Hux his space after their incident. Despite his panic, Hux had gotten to his room, locked it, and promptly fell asleep, only to wake up nine hours later with his undergarments partly stuck to his body. A nurse had been knocking politely on his door, and more insistently as he took his time rousing. They had keys, why the hell did he have to get up? He gave her a brush off that she likely didn’t deserve, and walk-of-shamed to the showers. He knew no one could tell he was, but it was the principle of the thing, as memory jumped back to the forefront of his mind.

Now, walking around floor 6-A, he let himself run over events. He didn’t exactly _regret it_. He simply couldn’t. It just made his situation worse. There were exactly one hundred and seventeen days before he could go back to his life, and unless something dramatically changed, it would be one hundred and seventeen days trapped in a wing smaller than Boston’s school of medicine building with Kylo. Strategy was the key here, planning a schedule that put him in contact with the man who was apparently his _personal_ psycho as little as possible. He would have to factor for Kylo’s unpredictability, but it would be simple to, at minimum, get his therapy schedule changed.

There. Easy. It wasn’t a concern what had happened, only what happened next. If he could control it, even partially, things would be salvageable.

-

Hux had requested that all his medical updates and tests results be sent to his room, rather than not sent at all. As someone who knew the virus both personally and clinically he felt confident in diagnosing his own areas of needed improvement. Once he had gotten a basic grasp on what the virus was, what activated it, he had started working on managing it immediately. There were people, like rabbits, that once they had the virus always had a higher than normal heart rate, high blood pressure, were nervous and generally easy to trigger. Those were the people that never really left special observation, and he never would be one of them.

He also used his results as a baseline for studies with the physiology of those with Malind. Until immunology got to the point of putting cures through the wringer that was the FDA’s validation process (it wasn’t even at the point of designing them), applied research was focused on management of symptoms. Hux had all of his monthly physical results from only a few months after he contracted the virus to present, and kept an Excel workbook that tracked his progress.

It had taken a year of consistent exercise and diet changes to drop his heart rate down to the fifty-seven bpm it was now. He was almost at an athlete’s rate, but to push him there he would need to take up an activity like long distance running, which was not something he had the time or patience for. He had always had good blood pressure, but a healthy diet and everyday atmosphere free of major stressors kept it that way. He learned self defense to feel secure in his ability to protect himself when in the unpredictability of city life, and didn’t keep any close relationships. Relationships would ruin you, make you lose the control you carefully crafted around the rest of your life. No, they were much too messy, too much effort for someone who needed a consistent and relaxed atmosphere. Besides, how many people would want to get involved with someone who was afflicted?

Picking up the papers from his bedside table he licked his finger, thumbing through the pages. His NAT results showed the viral load in his blood to be higher than average, but that was to be expected. Even after the virus went back into dormancy, the already copied components stayed in the bloodstream for weeks, causing mild effects and making it more likely to trigger another episode. Most people were prescribed medication after an episode, a combination of SSRIs and tricyclic antidepressants, generally used to treat anxiety. Hux refused them. It would only set his conditioning back, make his body dependent on the hormone levels forced by the drugs. Another few months and he would be back to baseline.

It was a bit transparent, but he could technically blame his on-edge behavior on the virus. It was a deep temptation, but to deny that he was responsible was to deny responsibility for anything related to the virus, and it was always there. That could lead to refusing responsibility for his whole life. Accountability was paramount.

As Hux finished he folded the papers back into their neat square, put them into his laptop case for later cataloging, and headed into the bathroom. He had needed to use the restroom for a half hour, but was reluctant to use the hospital's.

Upon entering he stopped short, hovering in the doorway with a sudden sense of apprehension. Taped to the mirror was what looked like a note. He approached and snatched it off the glass and opened it slowly. Jesus, he’d seen physicians with better handwriting.

_Meet me in the room near the offices 5/12 9pm_

Hux looked at the note, then checked his watch. 7:23. He looked back at the note. The one time he’d left the room today was just prior, on his walk. Kylo had waited until he left, broken into his locked room, and only left a note.

He crumpled it in a fist and tossed it into the toilet. He was not going to be slave to Kylo’s whims.

-

The door looked the same as any other door in the hallway, but Hux imagined feeling a creeping aura coming from it, rolling through the cracks. He sighed, wondering where he went wrong.

When he went in, he pulled the door firmly shut and came face to face with Kylo. He startled back slightly. What was he doing?

“Could you let me into the room?”

Kylo backed off like a scolded animal. Hux kept his hand on the knob.

“You came.”

“Against my better judgment. I assumed you would come to me otherwise.”

Kylo gave no response. He looked deeply tired in the dim light of the one hanging bulb, a darker mirror of Hux's own face. He also seemed solemn, less sure of the placement of his body in space.

“Did you need something?”

Silence. Hux filled with irritation. He wanted to take the lacing on Kylo’s hood and wrap it around his neck. Maybe then he would stop this insanity.

“If you have nothing I will leave. I have other things to be doing.”

Kylo raised his eyes from the ground. “Do you?”

Hux gave him a dead stare, daring him to press it further.

“I...you’re avoiding me.”

Surprise wrote itself across Hux’s face for a moment and he let go of the door slowly. He sounded so sincere. “Obviously.”

“I don’t see why.”

It was a struggle not to let the images of the gym flash before his eyes. “I don’t _like_ you, Kylo.”

“You don’t need to like me. But I can help you. We’re the same.”

“We are _not_.”

This seemed to flip a switch in Kylo, and he met Hux’s eyes as his face transformed with something like anger. “What really _gets_ you, Hux?” Kylo asked, crowding the other man into the corner. Hux’s ankle hit the edge of a box and he hissed a curse, glancing down.

“What triggers you, no matter what?” Kylo pressed, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn down.

Hux looked back up and leveled a glare at him. “Pain.”

“That’s it?”

“As you’ve learned, I am under remarkable control.”

He didn't feel in control, with the amber color of Kylo’s eyes boring into him, his heat radiating. Hux could swear he was single-handedly raising the temperature in the cramped space as if on command.

“How much pain?”

“A lot.”

“Was it this?” Kylo placed his hand on Hux’s side and Hux tensed his abdomen. “I saw the scar. I saw the wound, in the van.”

“How did you see _anything_?” He couldn't believe Kylo had been so aware, doped up on the virus and Ketamine. Kylo reverted to his infuriating cryptic tone.

“You can use the virus, or it can use you.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Hux exclaimed, moving to break away, but Kylo dropped his other hand down and held his waist tight, rubbing his thumb almost exactly down the length of the scar that curved around Hux’s side for several inches. Hux held himself rigid, intent on not letting out a shiver from the feeling.

“Tell me, was it this?”

Hux curled his lips. “Yes.”

“Did you fear for your life?”

“Yes.”

Kylo looked at him closely. “Are you sure?”

“ _No!_ ” Hux yelled, shoving Kylo’s hands off and pushing off the wall the swerve around him. He got his hand inches from the doorknob before Kylo grabbed his wrist, attempting to whirl him back around. Hux stopped hard, feet planted and half turned back to the dark man, breathing heavy but steadily.

“What does it matter? What the fuck do you want from me?”

It didn't seem natural for Kylo’s eyes to be so large, somehow the most prominent feature of his face. He was looking again upon Hux, unwavering.

“Everything.” He answered with a tone of grave certainty.

A beat passed. “You fucking psycho,” Hux replied in a whisper, tone defeated and mentally exhausted. He felt pried open and his insides yanked around, and not wanting to think about the damn virus anymore. “Let go of me.” He pulled his wrist away, and Kylo let him go.

“Hux-”

Hux ignored him, the closet door closing almost silently behind him.

-

It was too bright. His pupils constricted harshly as he let the knob go and walked quickly down the hallway towards his room. Was it towards his room? He realized he was breathing fast, too fast. His pulse thundered under his fingers and he tried to force slowed breaths through his nose.

Hux turned a corner, catching a shoulder on the wall and leaning. He was calm. Kylo was not doing this to him. It was fine, he just needed to get to his room.

The floor wasn’t supposed to be at that angle, was it.

Everything went black.

 

 

 

_So if I run it's not enough_  
_You're still in my head forever stuck_  
_So you can do what you wanna do_  
_I love your lies I'll eat 'em up_  
_But don't deny the animal_  
_That comes alive when I'm inside you_


	3. Chapter 3

_The air is silk_  
_Shadows form a grin_  
_If I lose control_  
_I feed the beast within_  
_Cage me like an animal_  
_A crown with gems and gold_  
_Eat me like a cannibal_ _  
_ Chase the neon throne

  
_Breathe in, breathe out_ _  
Let the human in_

 

The feel of leather on his arms was the first thing Hux recognized as he swam up through the darkness of his mind to consciousness. The feeling was becoming unfortunately familiar, after being able to avoid it for so long until recently. He pulled up gently, testing their tightness to the hospital bed, and the rustling beside him let him know he wasn’t alone before he’d opened his eyes. Somehow, irrationally, he still expected it to be too bright, glaring at him like surgery lights. He very slowly eased them open, finding the room bathed in a calmer dim white light originating from somewhere near the far corner. Sliding his gaze sideways from the blank ceiling, he caught the edge of a black garment, a sleeve where long fingers emerged.

He let out a little sigh, choosing to ignore Kylo for the moment. He deeply wished he wasn’t strapped down. It was an easily understandable reason for their caution: the anxiety associated with both passing out _and_ waking up in an unfamiliar place could be enough to trigger some. But not _him_. When would anyone understand that?

Kylo watched him quietly, withdrawn into his hood that was somewhat too large for his head. His hair still poked out, giving him a look that was both sinister and childish in the low light that backlit him. 

It was also simple enough to understand what had gone wrong. He had put himself in a vicious little feedback cycle from the stress of the last month. Working his body too hard, without enough nutrients (it was difficult finding the desire to eat if you weren’t sure you would ever be able to eat anything else but hospital food again) or sleep. Normally, he would have been able to juggle it all, work towards pulling things back in line one at a time, but Kylo was a very literal roadblock to anything Hux wanted to do.

Kylo, who was sitting just feet away, still as a statue.

“What do you want, Kylo.” he whispered, mouth twisting into a frown. His throat was dry.

“Isn’t that repetitive?”

Hux resisted the urge to growl at him, to lower himself in that way. “Undo the straps.”

“The nurses will be angry.”

It wouldn’t look good, sure, having a person who was not a medical professional releasing a person hospitalized who had Malind, but Hux didn’t care. He was awake, he was in control, and he couldn’t stand being so exposed and powerless in front of his personal antagonist. Even if that meant asking him to give that power back.

“I don’t care.” he bit out between clenched teeth.

After a long look, Kylo shrugged a shoulder, and his hands fully emerged from the cave of his sleeves, long fingers deftly plucking the straps out of their buckles. As soon as they loosened Hux wriggled his wrists free, clutching one in the opposite hand, rubbing as if he had been in them days rather than only mere hours. Hours? He glanced to the clock. Six. Apparently his insomnia had been more serious than he’d assumed. Kylo retreated, like a dog who had been told he did something wrong, face slipping back into half shadow in his hood.

“How did they allow you in here anyways.” Hux sat up slowly, pushing back a wince as his head throbbed.

“Uh,” Kylo fidgeted, “I informed the nurses that this can sometimes happen to people like us, and that there were some signs that I could look for in case you were to get worse.”

“No it’s not,” Hux replied, giving him a confused glance as he slowly rolled his neck. It cracked satisfyingly.

Kylo looked up from under his brow, eyes glinting. “I know.” He managed a smile that Hux was forced to recognize as coy. It dropped from his face quickly as a new emotion stole over: guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” Hux couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his tone. He was always snarkier when ill.

“Not everyone is ready to accept themselves. I pushed you too hard because I thought you were. I know you understand me, you just have to allow yourself to know that.”

Hux rolled his eyes and dropped his head back on the pillow he had fluffed up behind him. Of all the convoluted apologies he’d ever heard, and when working with medical students you heard quite a lot, Kylo’s took the blue ribbon. He was too tired to argue with the logic of the mad.

“Alright,” he sighed, the hospital gown crinkling as he filled his torso with sterile air. Christ, if he never wore a hospital gown again it would be too soon. If the _smell_ of them was becoming familiar, he had worn them too many times.

“Alright?”

“Yes. You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“Probably not.”

At least he was honest. There was no one Hux hated more than liars. He could accept few and varied situations for usage of a lie, but those were deeply specific. In their few, however nerve-wracking conversations, he did not think for one moment that Kylo lied to him. He was so brutally honest it seemed that cloaking his words and emotions in cryptic babble was the only way to keep from spilling his entire heart out of his mouth every time he opened it. Even his look now, as Hux tipped his head to the side gingerly to view it, was earnest.

In a few more months, when this was over, he could always still sell his apartment and disappear.

-

It was easy to assume that Dr. Braeden Hux was a psychopath, in the clinical definition of the term. Having antisocial personality disorder fit his cold demeanor just fine. He avoided unnecessary conversations, lived alone, didn’t indulge in social calls or nights out, could be brutally stern and unforgiving, and was entirely focused on his work. Hux was extremely private, and preferred his introverted nature to remain undisturbed. He worked best and most efficiently alone. Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone wanted to be too close to him anyways, not with a killer lurking under his skin, slipping silently through his veins.

Kylo didn’t seem perturbed. In fact, when he wasn’t confronting Hux or snapping at the nurses, he was utterly unflappable. While Hux could be a boiling pot of anger on the inside for days after an incident, Kylo seemed to let it wash away.

They had fallen into an uneasy truce since Hux had been released from the infirmary. Infirmary wasn’t the right word, but it sounded marginally better than ‘impromptu quarantine/holding cell’. Kylo hadn’t bothered him for days, a full week including today, about anything to do with Malind. Not a single word was uttered by his pretty mouth other than “Good morning,” or “See you tomorrow, Hux.”

That said, Kylo was once again a ghost by his side. He would slip in across from him at breakfast in the cafeteria, so early they were practically the only two there. Their therapy schedules really _were_ aligned, and Kylo would walk him back to his room, in a silence that was slowly becoming more comfortable than icy. Kylo would follow him to the gym, and once he figured out his routine he would show up not long after Hux had begun, and would join him. It was this way that Hux truly got an honest view of the massive man. The first time Kylo had shed his ridiculously ratty hoodie and the pullover beneath, revealing a dark tank top, Hux openly stared. Kylo looked cut of marble, marred only by the scars that casually littered his upper body. He couldn't see the rest, hidden by tightly cinched sweatpants. The beauty marks on his face extended to the rest of him. It was difficult not to appreciate his form, but it got easier when Kylo noticed and shot him the coyest smile yet, and Hux firmly looked away, a blush darkening the freckles over his nose, darkened from his walks outside. Besides, Kylo could bench a solid 150 pounds over him, and that was simply unfair. It was better for his ego if he didn’t watch.

Hux had hoped, with a weak-willed sort of desperation, that the strange sexual moments they had shared would be relegated to the past. He was not so lucky. In an effort to avoid a repeat his recent physical failing, he had taken to trying to sleep by a decent hour, with the aid of a little pink pill he took at precisely 10PM every evening. The pill was very effective, he had to admit. Within an hour he was asleep, but the dreams that plagued him were...intense, to say the least.

He normally would only remember snatches in the morning, and that was the best case scenario. Obviously, he would dream of Kylo because life could never be fair. It would be too much to ask that he stay in only _one_ of Hux’s headspaces. Some of the dreams were predictable, playing out Hux’s fantasies that he could only admit to in dreams. To reveal what was hiding in Kylo’s jeans, or god forbid the wickedness of the sweatpants would return to him in the dream, the cotton and elastic of his waistband pulling away give him something he had been looking for for a very long time. They were always in his apartment, often in his bed, and that was most appalling when he awoke, for his mind to believe he would let the childish madman so far into his safest, most private place. But the visions of them together, in his cream-colored sheets, were lovingly detailed and Hux could not deny the appeal.

Sometimes, the pill was not so kind as to torment him what he actually wanted. Sometimes it was very much the opposite.

A reoccurring dream, one that had woken him up the first three times, but now in familiarity played out to the end. If asked, when he bolted upright in bed after its first iteration, gasping for air and clutching at his arms, what the dream was about, he wouldn’t be able to say with any certainty. It was a dark dream, of a Kylo with teeth as white as they could be. White as he had imagined them in that storage closet. Hux’s analytical mind would count them, smiling at him out of the darkness that seemed to be its own organism, to find too many. They were sharp and long and solely inhuman in their cruelty. They could, if he remembered, surge out of the darkness, embedded in Kylo’s face that held eyes that cultivated no brown at all, only large circles of black. Those teeth would latch onto him anywhere, everywhere really, and he would scream and the world would tint red. He was never sure whether it is his own lifeblood or the surge of adrenaline and he knows, _he knows_ if he doesn’t keep his heart rate down he will trigger. In his anxiety he realises: it doesn’t seem to matter because as Kylo tears away chunks of flesh, spitting them to the side like Hux is simply a gift he is trying to unwrap, he isn’t sure what will be left of him to go feral when he finally gives in. Truly the dream never ends, it simply fades into a darkness that Hux seems to push through until he wakes up.

He was terrified and intrigued by the dreams in equal parts, but reluctant to stop taking the drug. When the dreams bled over into one another, and their passion was marked by skin-rending bites and the sound of many hearts beating too fast in his ears, when he woke up to a full body quivering that he couldn’t blame solely on the dream and an arousal that was so intense it hurt, he stopped.

-

Idleness makes for irritable men. At least, that was the case for Hux. His time wandering the hospital and gardens was just about the only time he was guaranteed to be free of Kylo, and despite their new understanding of one another, he still cherished the peaceful time alone. However, that peaceful time became _too_ peaceful when he had nothing to do. In an effort to stave off the boredom that threatened his mental stability, he had taken to walking the less busy areas with his phone in hand, an oversized Note that was useless for the most part, but singularly useful when reading while on the move. The phone had become a glorified miniature tablet and eReader, as he rarely took calls on his private cell line. He had all the most recent journal articles related to Malind and other Lyssaviruses automatically download to it from the hospital’s truly spectacular wifi, and would read them most often in the little gardens or would settle on a couch in one of the many lobbies, comforted by the sounds of progress.

An area he indulged in less often was near the ER. There were days when he would crave the quick glimpses at the barely controlled chaos of the waiting room and triage, the stress on everyone’s faces as people fought to feel safe and well again. It was a comfortable place for him, strangely enough, filling him with the nostalgia of his days as an EMT. Everyone had to start somewhere, and medical school did not pay for itself. Being an EMT had been too personal for him, in the end. Having to learn a patient’s name, just to have them die in the ambulance. To see such injustices such as a person almost beaten to death by their spouse and knowing you could do nothing about it but stop the bleeding. This of course was before he was graced with the horror of Malind, before the sight of blood made him anxious.

Today was a nostalgic day, for reasons that Hux couldn’t pinpoint. His feet simply wandered him to the little green couch nearest the waiting area, with a full view of both the secondary main doors and the doors to triage. He couldn’t see the ambulance entry doors, but would always manage to snag a look at those brought in that way before they disappeared behind the swinging grey triage doors.

He settled in, ready to sit for the next two hours at minimum while catching up on his reading. There was a new paper out about antiviral drugs (what a silly thought, trying to stop a virus, but in some cases it worked and that was what Hux was banking on), and he tucked one leg under his thigh, setting a fresh cup of coffee from the overpriced hospital Starbucks on the table.

Time passed by without Hux needing to be concerned about the hour, he had nowhere to be. He flicked his eyes to the doors every now and then, watching people being pushed by on gurneys, the family and friends who crowded into the waiting room to wait for news. He recognized the haggard looks on the nurses’ faces, and in a small petty way it made him feel better.

His attention was truly grabbed some time after he had sat down, after he had already shifted twice to relieve the numbness creeping into his legs. The antiviral paper was long finished, he had also polished off an ecological paper about bat populations in Tanzania, and had gotten ten or so pages (depending on whether you counted the abstract) into an article about the most recent attempt to genetically sequence the common form of rabies, the original _Lyssavirus_ . To be entirely accurate, Malind wasn’t truly _Lyssavirus_ , it was a closely related strain, along with viruses like Mokola, Ikoma, Lagos bat virus, and others. They were collectively referred to as rabies-related Lyssaviruses, but colloquial terminology grouped them all under ‘rabies’. The real difference was their reservoir hosts. He was getting to an interesting bit about a related sequence of genes with other Rhabdoviridae species when the secondary doors burst open, and a gurney came careening through.

A nurse was running ahead, shouting at people ahead of her to move out of the way, as a trio of EMTs crowded around the gurney. As he watched a woman in a lab coat came running out of a door that shared a wall with Hux’s little couch, hustling straight to the gurney as it came down the long hallway.

“Why didn’t you use the ambulance doors!” she shouted, pulling out a penlight and shining it into the patient’s eye after holding a limp lid open.

“No time,” panted one of the EMTs, looking deeply shaken, “Couldn’t wait to get around the building, she’s already spasming.”

The doctor pressed her hand to the woman’s forehead, pale gloves covering her fingers and Hux could see the patient’s head shaking just shy of violently in the way the doctor’s arm jerked. “Christ, she has to be pushing 104 degrees already, one of you run ahead and tell them to start an ice bath.”

The EMTs looked at each other briefly, then looked back at the doctor. “What if she--”

“What ifs won’t matter if her brain liquefies from fever! Go!”

Startled, one EMT opposite the doctor peeled away, breaking into a sprint to run through the triage doors. As the gurney turned to follow, Hux caught the last bit of their conversation.

“How long has it incubated?”

“Before she passed out she said he’d been attacked by a stray two weeks ago, then she came up here for vacation. She started feeling flu symptoms yesterday…”

The doors swung shut behind them, but not before he saw the little yellow flag shoved into the ring where they would normally put a blood bag or IV fluids. His heart clenched as he let out a gasp, his phone slipping from his grip to clatter onto the tile.

-

Getting back to his room was a rushed affair, and he yanked open his briefcase to pull out a slim Macbook. It was torture to wait for it to boot, and he immediately started searching the Public Health Department websites for the states around them, starting with those closest and working outward in a clockwise ring. After the fifth try, he found it.

The bulletin was simple, but it made Hux’s heart jump into his throat in sudden excitement.

News Release

North Carolina Department of Public Health

\---------------------------

 **Second rabid cat in Hyde County prompts heightened rabies warning**  

**FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE**

 

Local public health officials are urging people to take basic, but extremely important precautions in Hyde and surrounding counties against rabies. The warning follows confirmation that a positive house cat was found in a coastal community on February 25. This is the second confirmed rabid cat in Hyde County this year, the first found only 10 miles north in Dare county. The main concern is, due to the location, the infected animals may be carrying Malind virus, as the cat was seen over the course of a week before being killed.

The following precautions should be take to avoid possible exposure to rabies:

  * Do not allow pets to run loose, confine them within a high fenced area or with a leash. Do not leave your pets outside for long periods of time without supervision.


  * Do not leave uneaten pet food or food scraps around your house or business.


  * Do not feed or attempt to keep wildlife as pets.


  * Do not go near animals or people that are acting in a strange or unusual manner.


  * Instruct children not to go near unattended animals.


  * If you are bitten or scratched by an animal or person, seek medical attention immediately. Advise children to tell an adult if they receive an injury from an animal or person.



Wash any wounds immediately with mild soap and water, apply first aid, and seek attention from Urgent Care or contact the county health department immediately. Rabies can be preventable in humans following exposure if treatment is provided promptly.

North Carolina state law requires all domestic pets to be kept current with rabies vaccination. Vaccinations for humans are available by request from a physician, or by making an appointment with your county health department. Vaccinating people and animals reduces the risk of rabies infection should exposure occur, thus vaccination helps protect animals, owners, and bystanders.

For more information log onto [ www.CDC.gov/rabies ](http://www.cdc.gov/rabies) or contact the North Carolina Department of Public Health, Bureau of Communicable Disease, Infectious Diseases and Outbreak Division.

 

\-------------------------

 

It was hard not to let out a mocking laugh at the bulletin. ‘Preventable with prompt treatment’. Only the spinning wheel of fate could decide if you were to contract Malind or not. Hux shook his head, he was being strangely poetic. _Lyssavirus_ could be treated and stamped out of your system if it was caught before symptoms began, otherwise death was almost assured. Malind did not yet have that luxury. If you were possibly exposed, all you could do was wait to find out, and take measures to mellow the severity of the initial stage and first furious episode, if they were to come. The fact that the woman had been attacked by a stray, a _cat_ no less, who were not a common reservoir host for Malind, had boded well for her avoiding contraction. The chances of transmission through saliva to open membrane were 1 in 1,000 for a _human_ with Malind attacking another human. The rate of transmission from an animal to human? Low. The exact numbers were inaccurate, it was hard to test that in a lab when finding infected animals was so difficult, but it was at least 1 in 3,000, maybe 5,000. It appeared the transferred form of the virus needed to change very quickly to a virion once in a human system, to make itself suitable for invading a cell and hiding in its cytoplasm, and if there weren’t enough individual agents passed along during a transmission event, it was almost impossible to contract Malind. Hux remembered the statistics from an early study of Malind, the virus extracted from a newly dead raccoon. In a transmission event that carried over half a million virus particles, the human body’s immune response (or the lab equivalent) regularly killed off 70%, another 20% would be unable to get into a cell before they expired, leaving only, truly, 50,000 individuals to create a permanent infection in a body of on average 37 trillion cells. 70% of _those_ were red blood cells, the cell of choice for dormant Malind.

This development raised a lot of questions. How had the disease resurfaced? There hadn’t been a new case of Malind north of Georgia in a year, and trade from Africa was tightly controlled. There were two cats, had the first had Malind too? Or simply regular rabies? Most surprising of all, a cat had managed to transmit Malind to a human. Was it unfortunate luck on the woman’s part? Or was this strain of the virus particularly strong, especially virulent? What if it was the same strain in both cats? _What if the cat was still alive_.

Hux almost tossed his laptop off the bed as he jumped off of it, managing a fumbling grab to put it back in the case. He left the whole mess atop the sheets as he grabbed his jacket and streaked out of the room.

-

It was difficult enough to find the Director of the Long-Term wing’s office in the maze of offices and inventory rooms near the ground floor of the hospital, as far back from the functioning parts as you could get. Once he had, it had then been a thirty minute wait for the man to complete a phone call with the family of a patient who, it seemed, did not believe he needed to be held for his near-uncontrollable schizophrenia.

It was even more difficult to convince the director that Hux should be released early, or at least in a short-term agreement, to travel to North Carolina to, in so many words, hunt for the infected feline.

So difficult, he wasn’t able to.

“I understand the concern, Director, but I am perfectly healthy, I have been managing this for years,”

“Until recently. Did you not almost have an episode only weeks ago?”

Hux pulled in a slow, angry breath, trying to keep his calm. He had _passed out_ , that wasn’t synonymous with triggering. Maybe for those less controlled, but not _him_. How many times did he need to say this? He was starting to feel like a broken record. You couldn’t place all people with Malind in the same box and expect their treatments to be the same.

“With all due respect, I did not. I simply had a moment of low blood pressure that resulted in fainting. Sleeping in a hospital has not agreed with me.”

The director, hair almost entirely silver but for dark eyebrows, raised one. “Doctor Hux,” he began, leaning forward in his chair. Hux met his eye without hesitation. “I understand that your work is important to you. It is important to us as well. I sympathize with your desire to further that work as promptly as possible, and I understand the opportunity, however small, this new development represents. If anything, your placement here is poorly timed. I agree that your antibody count is sterling, and you have excellent management strategies. But the fact remains, you are under observation and evaluation because of your clinical condition for six months, and there are three left. Even if I wanted to, and I admit I am tempted, I can not release you from this hospital.”

Hux sat back, stunned.

The other man seemed to take pity on him. “I would suggest you set someone up as head of your lab in the remainder of your absence, and they can put together a team to go without you. If they succeed, the samples will last in a freezer until you return. If money is a concern, Johns Hopkins does have a Malind Research fund, and given today's developments it wouldn't be difficult to get a modest amount of those funds donated to your lab, in the event your appointed team does succeed.”

It was generous, so generous of an offer that Hux would have to be an idiot not to act graciously in its wake. But he had never been the type to bow to pity, or to take handouts, and the rage that was building up from a simmer in his chest was hard to ignore.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, standing swiftly from his chair. The bracelet on his wrist scraped against the fabric of the arm and Hux almost broke right then. “I’ll keep that in mind. If anything changes, you know where I’m staying.”

The sad attempt at understanding, just short of pity, on the director's face was disgusting, physically repulsive to Hux in that moment. He left the room in a hurry, chest heaving.

-

Once, when Hux was a child, he had a temper tantrum. In a rage over something he could no longer remember, he had begun tearing into his room, throwing things and tearing down anything that wasn’t bolted to something else. He had been harshly punished, and left with a pearl of wisdom along with a sore ass he could barely sit on for a week: Loss of control is loss of power. People don’t follow animals, never act like one.

He had lived by those words for years, and with the exception of a few extraordinary circumstances, the advice had never steered him wrong.

Hux could, in light of the last few months, call this an extraordinary circumstance. However that was not something he was actively considering as the mug next to his bed was hurled into the wall, shattering with a noise that only began to satisfy him.

The director, for all his reasonable plans, didn’t _understand_. Preserved samples just were not of the same quality as a live specimen. No one knew how long lower animals afflicted with Malind lived. No one knew if a paralytic stage still existed in the virus at all. No one knew what exactly triggered a host that wasn’t human. Was it the same suite of factors? Was it more transmissible in their reproductive fluids as well? The research simply wasn’t there because the disease was so rare and the animals so hard to catch. Seeing Malind in its native form, before getting in a human host, was so, so rare. With the cat, he would be able to connect with a fellow researcher on the West Coast, they could set up behavioral and physiological studies that Hux had been dreaming of for years. A live specimen was exactly what Hux needed, it felt like the breakthrough he had been looking for, and it was only 350 miles away. That may as well have been on the moon for all Hux could do about it.

He wasn’t going to send a team. They wouldn’t understand, they wouldn’t treat the animal carefully enough; they’d probably end up killing it, if someone didn’t get attacked first. He couldn't put anyone else at risk of contracting Malind, which was part of the reason he insisted on doing most of his research alone. It wasn’t _theirs_ , was it? Hux picked up a plate and smashed that against the wall too, then cast about for something else to break. No, Malind was his. He had it, he put everything into fighting it, Malind virus was his demon and he’d be damned before anyone else took that fight from him.

He was probably damned anyways, said a stray thought, whispering through. If such things as heaven and hell existed, murder was a sure way to be sent to the one below as opposed to above.

But that was the virus, wasn’t it. Wasn’t it?

Hux yelled without words and found a vase that the nurses insisted on replacing every week with new flowers. Christ, he _hated_ flowers. How had he had the patience to allow them before? That got tossed to the ground, spreading water and clear treacherous glass all over the floor as it broke apart with a truly spectacular sound.

He stood still moment, trying to breathe, to get himself under control. He was not an animal, and Malind didn’t change that. No matter what people thought he was, their opinions on what he could and could not manage with his affliction, it didn’t matter because Hux knew.

A polite knock came to the door. Hux ignored it. Then the door creaked open, and he turned to see the intruder on his moment of weakness.

Kylo stood in the doorway, unabashed about the fact he had apparently picked the lock in under ten seconds.

“Now is not the time, Kylo.”

“You weren’t at the gym.” Was Kylo’s reply.

Hux glanced at his watch out of habit, to find that he had blown straight past his unspoken afternoon meeting with Kylo at the gym. He didn’t feel guilt, but something strange twisted his gut.

“I need to be left alone.”

Kylo didn’t move from the doorway.

“ _Kylo_.”

“The nurses are coming. Someone across the hall called them.”

“I don’t care.”

“What happened?”

Hux threw his notepad at Kylo, pages fluttering noisily as it hit his chest and fell to the ground. “You want to know? I’m still stuck here, with you, because of this goddamn disease when the cure is _out there!_ ” He pointed to the south, out the far window.

“You don’t need to be cured, Hux.” Kylo said quietly, patience and a kind of softness in his tone, “You’re already fine.”

He stepped properly into the room as Hux stared at him, brain grinding its gears angrily at this newest insult.

“How can you say that!” he yelled, fists clenching, “This is a disease! This is a fucking curse!”

“It’s a gift,” Kylo said, steadily stepping in until they were just close enough to reach out and touch one another, “Malind is an opportunity to be _real_ , it’s-”

“ _Do not,”_ Hux roared, “ _tell me what the virus is.”_

Hux reached, closing that gap enough to grab Kylo around the arm, and with a sharp tug pulled him, forward and down. He lifted a knee at the same moment, and it collided with Kylo’s stomach with a gratifying burst of air from Kylo’s mouth as the wind was knocked from him.

To his surprise, Kylo did not fall. Gasping, he stood back up, and used Hux’s grip to pull them together, wrapping his long arms around him.

His initial thought was to struggle, but a sense of calm washed over him with their prolonged contact. He had gone so long without even the most simple of physical contact. Hux was against even shaking hands. Was he really so weak as to crave affection from the man of both his literal and figurative nightmares? Apparently so, as he found himself going slack, breathing in deeply to force his heart to slow in a practice so routine he started it without thinking.

Kylo held him amid the chaos of the room for a short while, and when he backed away Hux immediately missed it. Taking his hand, Kylo pulled gently. “Come on,” he said, voice rough, “the nurses are coming.”

Suddenly, the very last thing he wanted to do was deal with the overprotective nurses. He went to follow Kylo’s lead, but hesitated. There was one snag. “They may think I’ve triggered. Or you.”

“No they won’t.” Kylo drew him from the room, and walked to the door across the hall. “You can tell them we left coherently, since you called them.” The frail looking young man in the room nodded, appearing more scared of Kylo than anything else.

“Now come on.”

Hux should have predicted their path, it was becoming so familiar. Just down the hall from his therapist’s office, and into the little storage closet that had become their meeting place.

Kylo pulled him in and Hux allowed himself to be pulled. Tiredness suddenly tugged at his limbs, the nights with unrestful sleep creeping upon him again as the adrenaline from his anger ran down to nothing. He gratefully dropped into Kylo’s arms again as he leaned them against the thin industrial shelving. For all the strange words that had passed between them in this room, it felt secure, and Hux for the moment felt safe. Purified of how unreachable he thought he was.

He let the embrace last a moment longer, then untangled them to lean next to Kylo. He sighed, chest expanding to its fullest. What was he, now?

Kylo turned his head to look at him, then twisted his body to follow, taking a wide step to place himself in front of Hux. “What are you thinking.” A silence stretched between them.

Hux looked down at the bracelet, it's loose links making it slip down his forearm halfway. Kylo took his hand.

“I know.”

“It feels like-”

“It feels like a collar. It feels like this society trying to tame you, to put a bell on your neck so they can always find you and control you but _listen_ Hux, _listen,_ we don't belong to anyone. We have every right to walk out of here, be whatever we want. They don't _own us_ , and they don't own what we can do.”

Hux stared at it, not willing to look up and meet Kylo’s eyes. He blinked away something that felt suspiciously like tears. It wasn’t that he agreed with all of Kylo’s sentiment, but some of it was true. He had felt watched, labeled as incompetent, held back from his potential since he had gotten the virus, and he was sick of it. Hux didn’t want to be tamed, didn’t want to need to be. He wanted this to go away, to be magically cured but he wasn’t childish enough to waste time wishing for things he couldn't have. Research on Malind was just now on the path of releasing a vaccine, it was years from anything like a cure, if one was even possible. The Wisconsin protocol was still the closest thing the medical community had to it for treating _regular_ rabies, and it had only recently been raised to a 20% success rate. The possibility of ever being free, truly free, not Kylo’s twisted sense of freedom, was slim to none. He would have to change his worldview if he wanted to live anything like a content life.

“It does.” Hux replied when he’d gotten control over his eyes, and pulled off the bracelet. As it dropped to the floor Kylo surged forward and kissed him.

Hux almost smacked the back of his head on the wall, partly from the force of it and partly the shock. This was the first kiss he’d ever exchanged with the man, the first with anyone since his ex. It wasn't unpleasant, but Kylo’s large lips were softer than he’d expect from a man, and he thought maybe it wasn't best that he indulge Kylo’s terrifying mentality. And then Kylo swiped his tongue over Hux’s bottom lip and _oh_ maybe he could indulge a tiny bit longer. He let his mouth open to allow him in, while alarm bells started ringing in his head.

Hux pulled back enough to murmur “Shouldn't, saliva,”

“Shh,” Kylo said, and Hux found that the arms now wrapping his waist were very persuasive in tugging him closer and shushing him as he was kissed again.

-

“So, the short version of it is, I still cannot get an early release to travel down there. They don’t understand how important this is.”

“Hmm.” Kylo replied, and Hux looked over at him. He had a suspicion, a knowledge really, that Kylo didn’t understand either, but for the moment was content enough to allow Hux his delusions that Kylo could be a normal man and want Hux to continue researching Malind. He was content to do so as well, for the moment, watching the light from the high window of the gym filter through and tint his dark hair to red-brown.

They were lounged across two of the benches that Kylo had pushed together. Five in the morning was a time that no reasonable person used to go to the gym, so it was their preferred time, if not sometime in the afternoon. Hux had his head propped on Kylo’s outstretched arm in a show of sickening familiarity, but once the physical barrier had been breached it had been hard to dam the flood of desire for more chaste contact.

After they had emerged from the closet, sweating and swollen-lipped, Hux had returned to his mess and acted abashed at his outburst. He offered to clean the floor, which the orderlies refused and the nurses outright forbid. Within an hour the room was tidied, and Hux had managed to ask the nurses not to bring more flowers. They didn’t ask why, and he didn’t explain.

He had an appointment with his therapist the next day, which he had acted abysmally during. He was tired of playing, tired of _pretending_. Hux was generally impolite, unconcerned of other’s emotions, and extremely private. None of those traits meshed with a well-meaning but prying therapist. So he stopped trying. His therapist, name still firmly erased from Hux’s memory, looked thoroughly irate by the time the hour was over, and Hux felt a petty sense of accomplishment.

The next day, he had gone to speak to the director again.

“Did you petition for a transfer?” Kylo asked, a hint of worry threading into his tone, at least from what Hux could tell.

“Yes,” Hux sighed, “but it was denied on the basis of ‘unsuitable facilities’. They put us in this wing with everyone else, I’m positive that it was just the easiest reason to deny my request that I couldn’t argue about.”

Kylo “Hmm”d again, looking up at the ceiling. “If you were transferred, I would go with you.”

“Would you?” Hux let his rarely-allowed sarcasm to emerge, dropping his head to the side to look at Kylo properly. His profile was so strangely attractive, when you looked at it long enough to be able to study the parts separately and put them together again. He didn’t believe for a moment that Kylo could get a transfer, if the leading scientist on Malind research couldn’t get one.

“You should take the money.” Kylo stated, ignoring Hux’s question.

“For the research that won’t be happening? I don’t take charity.” he scowled.

“There will be other outbreaks,” Kylo said, “and it isn’t charity, it's their weakness and you should take advantage of it. Their weakness is your strength.”

Despite the mystic bullshit, he had a point. How convenient would it be to simply _have_ the money ready, rather than getting the proposal ready and have to wait for funding be submitting a dozen grants. Control was power. If Hux controlled the money, he controlled the research. No strings attached freedom.

“I suppose you may be right.”

Kylo turned his head, and grinned. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Hux warned. Kylo turned fully to his side, leaning over enough to catch Hux’s mouth. Hux allowed it, but could not stop the spike of adrenaline at the forbidden act.

Malind was primarily transmitted by reproductive fluids, but it was still in the saliva. Hux had a theory, one that could only be tested by cutting through a metric ton of red tape, that Malind mutated as a result of the person it was using as a host. It explained the discrepancies in triggers, and the antibody counts. Hux had one of the highest antibody counts on record, but was his excellent control because of that? Or because his particular strain of Malind wasn’t so potent? Was it the body that changed the circumstances, or the virus itself?

The point of his theory was this: if one afflicted person shared fluids with another, would that affect their virus? How it acted, what triggered it, simply because the other person’s virus had mutated differently? Would Kylo’s Malind, given to Hux, make him have less control? Or was it really Kylo who was controlling the virus, being able to trigger it almost at will?

Hux wondered where the line was between the person and the virus, and part of him didn’t want to find out for fear it would be blurrier than he believed. If he kissed Kylo and nothing changed, he could be controlling it, pushing the line towards him being responsible. If he kissed Kylo and things changed, he would be losing the control he worked so hard for. In a strange way, Kylo won with either outcome.

Dammit, he just wanted to shut it all _up._ Stop thinking about it for one single day. Outside of this place, he could usually pretend he wasn’t afflicted. He avoided overly hot days, he didn’t overdo his cardio, he shunned social stressors. Only on late nights, alone in his apartment that was obsessively clean, he would allow himself to wonder how things would be different if he wasn’t this way.

Kylo broke their kiss. “You’re much better this way.”

“What?” Hux almost jerked off the bench, startled that Kylo had apparently read his mind.

“Like this,” Kylo said, dragging his fingertips backwards down Hux’s arm, “calm. Not fighting me. Do you feel better?”

Oh, he had meant their recent armistice. “Possibly.”

“Possibly?"

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“Talking?” Kylo looked confused. It was almost cute.

“Yes.”

Kylo’s look dissolved into mild irritation. “Admit it. You feel natural with me. Safe. It’s because we’re the same, and you can feel that. It’s not conscious, but your body knows.”

“Fucking hell Kylo,” Hux sat up, dislodging Kylo’s hand where it had come to rest over the inside of his elbow.

“I only say what I know. The feeling of safety is lust and fear in equal measure. It is one of the emotions as close to pure as you can get outside of being feral.”

Hux sneered at him. The minute they were something close to friendly, Kylo had to ruin it. He wouldn’t be swept further into this insanity that was already gnawing at the edges of his mind. “If you say another word I will hit you.”

At this point he was almost sure that Kylo _wanted_ to be hit.

“Have sex with me.”

“ _What_?”

“Have se-”

Hux twisted, and with a hard shove of his foot, pushed Kylo from the bench. He went crashing to the floor, landing awkwardly. Hux hoped dearly that it hurt. He leaned across the bench to look down at him, eyes narrowed. “Care to ask that again?”

Kylo rolled onto his back. “It only makes sense, Hux.”

“You don’t make any sense!”

“You hitting me is an outlet for your frustration.”

“Fuck you.” Hux spat.

“That’s what I’m suggesting.” Kylo smirked. Hux swore that if he laughed he would bring his heel straight down into that smart mouth.

“You are utterly insane. Why did I think for even a second I could tolerate you?”

“Because you are denying who you are, but know you shouldn’t. You’re drawn to me. I’m drawn to you. If you gave in to your needs more often, you would be more real.”

“You goddamn-”

He didn’t have time to finish, the words yanked out and replaced with a yelp as Kylo shot up, grabbing Hux by the arm and his shirt, and dragged him over the benches. He landed awkwardly, sprawled over Kylo’s large form, but as he sat up his legs shifted into the most natural position.

Hux glared at Kylo, who looked deeply pleased with himself. His hair blended almost perfectly with his jacket hood, giving it the illusion of some dark monastic outfit covering his head. It felt like that sometimes, as if Kylo was some true mystic sent to free Hux of the error of his ways. It was ridiculous, and Hux rejected it outright the moment he thought of it.

Kylo took Hux’s wrists, leading the hands to settle on either side on his head. Before Hux could protest, or even begin to escape, he clamped his huge hands onto Hux’s hips and rolled his own.

The sweatpants did _nothing_ to hide his erection, and Hux’s automatic straddling put him in the worst- best -position to feel all of it. His breath stuttered. “Psycho,” he managed to say, trying to breathe through the sudden pounding in his chest. His abdomen tightened and blood rushed to his cock. “Damn you.”

“Isn’t this better?” Kylo continued his motion, pressing their erections together in a tortuous slide that had Hux panting. How was Kylo so unaffected? Hux felt like he was going to combust, loins already tightening.

He could do little more than sit still, fingers attempting to dig holes in the tile as he fought off his orgasm, and glare hard at Kylo who seemed fascinated to watch their bodies come together. He managed fairly well until Kylo reached down between them, toying with the line of hair that slipped under Hux’s pants.

“Can I?”

What did it matter anymore, Hux was already ruined. “Fine,” he gasped.

Kylo pulled them both out of their pants quickly as he could, and wrapped his hand around their cocks. It was warm and real and it was no time at all before Hux was coming, trying not to let his arms buckle with the force of it. Kylo stroked them through it, and finished just as Hux was becoming oversensitized. He dropped his head back to the floor with a sigh, closing his eyes and letting his arm go limp.  

After a few deep, centering breaths, Hux sat up. He very calmly tucked himself back into his pants, firmly ignoring the come splattered on Kylo’s tank with just the smallest amount on the edge of his jacket. That completed, Hux reared back and punched Kylo across the jaw.

Kylo’s head whipped sideways, but he seemed to be almost prepared for it. He looked back at Hux and huffed out a laugh as he brought a hand to cup his own cheek. “Did you hit the other side intentionally?” It was hard to look at his eyes, Hux’s were so drawn to the almost identical scars across his cheekbones. It was suddenly too difficult to think about the fact he had put one there, and Malind had put the other.

Hux clambered to his feet, took advantage of a very cheap kick to Kylo’s ribs, and stormed out of the gym.

  
_Tugging a rhythm to the vision that's in my head_  
_Tugging a beat to the sight of you lying_  
_So delighted with a new understanding_  
_Something about a little evil that makes that_  
_Unmistakable noise I was hearing_  
_Unmistakable sound that I know so well_  
_Spent and sighing with a look in your eye_  
_Spent and sighing with a look on your face like_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a long wait and I am sorry, everyone. This chapter kicked my ass from here to Baltimore and back again. It's been beta'd /twice/. But! It did end up TWICE the length it was supposed to be. I was considering splitting it, but honestly I'd have to bookend another chapter musically and I don't want to!! My playlist is already set. So take this monstrosity.  
> On a side note, this chapter has fairly graphic sexual content and mentions of violence, but you should be used to that by now. It ramps up here, just a bit.  
> Before you scroll back up all mad once you finish, yes a stupidly long epilogue is coming very soon. This is now five chapters because I can't control myself. 
> 
> (Incredibly poorly veiled references to both brawlite's 'what's real or isn't' and of course, ocktorok's 'Southern Comfort'. I have a monster Kylo problem.)

_Your mind is just a program_  
_And I'm the virus_  
_I'm changing the station_  
_I'll improve your thresholds_  
_I'll turn you into a super drone_  
_And you will kill on my command_ _  
_ And I won't be responsible

 

If Hux had thought that Kylo was a stalker (later just a pest) before, it was nothing compared to his behavior now.

In the three days, _three_ , since their last unintentional encounter, Kylo had made himself an utter menace. At least, it was unintentional for Hux. He was absolutely positive that Kylo, the menace, had been planning it for some time.

Their conversations became thinly veiled innuendos that Hux ended up walking away from, face stony and Kylo with a new bruise somewhere. His jaw had blossomed into a gorgeous bruise, purple and blue snaking down the line of bone and in one spot near his ear stretching up to his cheekbone. He didn’t seemed bothered by it, and a small voice inside Hux kept telling him he was simply putting fuel on the fire by touching the other man at all.

But not touching him was _hard._ Even without the sleeping pills, it seemed that the damage was done and he dreamt of Kylo all three nights, tossing and turning and waking up with his night pants tented. He firmly ignored his body, going about what little routine he had each day. Kylo was constantly underfoot, even going so far as to be sitting in one of the gardens as he passed by, despite Hux keeping no real schedule to his walks.

“Hux.”

“ _No_ , Kylo.”

“You’ve already given in, before. What’s different? Because I asked?”

“Those were _coercion_ , and also a terrible idea. I will not indulge it further.”

“Indulgence is the root of humanity, stemmed of lust for all things. I know you understand that, somewhere. You would be happier if you accepted it.”

Hux had to agree with that. Anyone is happier when they are well-fucked, but that wasn’t the point. That had nothing to do with him, or Kylo, or the virus; it was just his dumb libido and a release of hormones. He needed to stop thinking about Kylo when he was right there, he thought as he suddenly felt a bit too warm.

“I said no, now drop it.”

“I’m not that kind of animal,” Kylo smirked, “but I can be in bed.”

Hux groaned and turned on his heel, quickly retreating out of frustration and secondhand embarrassment.

-

“So, Braeden, what new has been happening for you?”

Hux didn’t bother to disguise his look of disgust. They weren’t even trying anymore. “Well, I’m still here, so there’s that.”

The therapist flipped through some papers that looked suspiciously like emails. Not _his_ therapist, that was stupid, he didn’t even know the man’s name. The man in question looked up.

“I have word that you tried to get your stay shortened? Not that I blame you, but how are you feeling with the refusal?”

“Pissed off, mostly.”

A light entered the man’s eyes. Hux had the vague desire to remove them. The ‘refusal’ as he so delicately called it had only been days ago, and it still burned inside. That paired with the stress of Kylo...well, he wasn’t going to think about Kylo. Not in front of this moron.

“Let’s talk about that. Where is the anger coming from?”

“That must be obvious.”

“I want to hear it from you, Braeden.”

Hux swore to himself, if this so-called therapist referred to him by his first name one more time, he would trigger right here, just to have the satisfaction of watching him cower. He paused. That wasn’t like him, to think about using the virus that way. He’d never wanted to use it at all. _Ever._

It was an alarming mental path he wanted to follow, if only to find out how to stop it, but the therapist spoke again. “If you don’t want to talk about it-”

“I don’t.”

The therapist sighed, long and suffering. Hux quirked his lips up in a quick smile that he wiped when their met eyes again. He knew Kylo didn’t have to suffer with this same therapist, he wondered what his was like. Did Kylo actually use his? A short chuckle escaped him, of course he didn’t. That infuriating creature was so sure of himself, he likely just sat there preaching _at_ the therapist for an hour.

The man’s eyebrow rose, and Hux schooled his features again. Another very good reason not to think about Kylo during therapy.

“Look, Br-”

“Hux.” He butted in unapologetically, “I should have said before. I prefer Hux.” He was a doctor himself for god's sakes, it was infantilizing on top of everything else.

Strangely, the man seemed pleased. “Alright, Hux. Let’s move on to a new topic. Have you made any acquaintances since you began here? You’re over halfway to being able to go home, is there anyone you may keep in contact with afterwards?”

Kylo’s face came to the forefront, and _christ_ would he ever be rid of him? His gut twisted in a feeling of either irritation of fondness, neither of which he would admit to. He glanced at the nameplate on the desk, and allowed himself to memorize it, if only for a moment.

“Why do you treat me like this, Dr. Tarkin?” He asked suddenly.

“Like what?”

Hux searched for the right words. He wasn’t even sure _he_ knew what he meant. “Why do you...I’m aware this is your career, and you see people much more ill-mannered and outwardly ill than I. Your job is to be accepting and nonjudgmental. But those who know what this means…” he shook his wrist, suddenly unwilling to say it. “They look at me differently, even in the medical field. I don’t speak of my affliction in my career, it would make me look biased or insincere in my efforts. The media paints us as monsters. Obviously we aren’t, but the facts remain. I’m a murderer. I’ve been that monster, and I wonder how it is you look at me as if I’m not different from you at all.”

Tarkin leaned back in his chair, the lightness he held on his face wiped away for a moment as he thought. “My Grandfather was an important man. He was also terrible, and the men and women he surrounded himself with were so as well. He was close with a man named Vader, who was deeply disturbed and did unspeakable things. I grew up under the shadow of a family with a dark reputation, not to mention the reputation we gathered for ourselves. Much of my family is perfectly sane, perfectly average in their lives and pursuits. I learned very early that the perceptions placed upon you by others are unimportant, and most often untrue. We all do things we shouldn’t, in the eyes of the greater social body and current moral slant of the world. We all have regrets, and we all have things we cannot control. Yours are simply more tangible than most. You are not the only murderer, and that fact does not condemn you. You are just a man, Hux. Your attributes and your history do make who you are, though only to a certain point. You have a uniqueness, a skill, an affliction, whatever you’d like to call it but it does not define you. Yes, it changes you. But change is all we are, and choice is the root of that change. I’ve met monsters, and they are the sum of their choices. You can be a monster and a man, if that is what suits you, but only because _you_ apply those labels to yourself, not other people. I don’t presume to know who you are because you have Malind. Does that answer your question?”

Hux sat, stunned momentarily in the wake of such a speech. He may have made a mistake with Tarkin. It would take a while to process what he had said, but the sentiment stood clear, and in a strange, stubborn way he appreciated it.

“Yes, I think it does.”

-

“Despite its brutality in function, Malind virus acts much the same way as regular _Lyssavirus_. The symptoms of a furious episode, often called ‘going feral’ as compared to the furious stage of rabies are quite similar, not that these facts are so surprising.

“What is more interesting is their differences. With the evolution of Malind, there has been an evolution in the human race: MVNA, the Malind antibody. Now be aware that this is different from RVNA, or the rabies antibody, and actually not as similar as we would expect between the antibodies for two viruses that are so closely related.  

“Perhaps it would be best to start with a quick overview of how exactly an immune system functions regarding most viruses, those that are susceptible to regular antibody response. The short, and least complicated version is this: the virus replicates in a cell. It is released into the blood, to then in turn infect new cells, and restart the process. During this time in the blood, a T-cell can identify the virus, or rather identify its antigen. Once this happens, the immune response begins. The T-cells alert what we call B-cells, which begin producing antibodies. These antibodies, which are specialized to connect to the specific receptors of the virus, or virion when it is functional in the blood, are released into the bloodstream. They attach to the virus, making it unable to complete its replication cycle. There are many ways and stages in the cycle it can attach depending on the virus. The virus particles basically become non-functional and no longer infective, and float harmlessly in the blood. They are then most often eaten by phagocytes. It is with this process that infections are beaten out of our bodies.

“They say that you can never truly get rid of a virus once you have contracted it. This is true, but not as directly as you may think. In severe viruses, like HIV, the virus actually cuts itself into your genome, and replicates along with your cells. In this way you will never be rid of them, even if you are asymptomatic. It is proposed that up to 8% of our genome is simply old viruses that have degenerated. Malind is similar, in that it joins with the DNA in a red blood cell to take over its functions enough to force the cell to replicate the virion once triggered.

“In acute diseases, the virus, once replicated to cell capacity, will break out of the cell, tearing through the membrane and killing it. In more chronic infections, it is much more likely that the newly assembled viral particles will bud out from the cell, leaving it intact. This second method is how Malind functions, and how it can hide in red blood cells, undetectable by T-cells when the host is not in a furious episode. Malind, unlike rabies, is a chronic, genome-binding infection that simply _looks_ like rabies.

“The rabies antibody is not naturally present in the human body. This is why the usage of pre-exposure vaccinations is so important for those that are at risk of infection, and explains the necessity of boosters over time. The human body will not naturally produce the rabies antibody, and even after their introduction via vaccine, eventually titers in the blood will drop low enough that a person is no longer gaining an advantage. The need for boosters is critical in protection against rabies. I say protection, but many of us know that the rabies vaccine does not protect against rabies infection. In most cases, it gives simply a leg-up against the infection, giving medical experts more time to start a patient on treatment, and delaying fatal symptoms. Researchers believe the low functionality of the rabies antibody is due to the primary infection site of the rabies virus: the central nervous system. There is evidence of limited penetration of the antibody into cerebrospinal fluid, and so rabies can proliferate almost entirely uninhibited.

“All of those facts I just told you about rabies? If you are talking about Malind, forget them. Yes, Malind does affect all the same organs as rabies: the CNS, the muscles, most glands, etc. But for some reason, Malind can only replicate in red blood cells, particularly those that are fully mature and in the bloodstream. So while rabies can replicate, unhindered, in the CNS, Malind can be stopped by antibodies in the bloodstream, and those particles in other organs simply die off with no way to replicate. When does Malind venture into other organs? Only during a furious episode.

“But back to my previous point. A major difference in the suppression of these two viruses is the fact that in humans, Malind antigens have a naturally occurring antibody. This is critical in the management of Malind as a chronic disease. During the initial stage of Malind, occurring very shortly after exposure, the virus integrates itself into the cells of the host. Integration causes the initial stage symptoms while the white blood cells fight the virus non-specifically, which, like many other infections, looks like the flu with muscle weakness, fever, headache, and general malaise. Once in the cells, the first furious episode begins, drawing the line between two types of people: those with a genome the can produce MVNA, and those without.

“Those without die during the first episode, overwhelmed by encephalitis and muscle paralysis. Those with the ability to produce MVNA significantly enough will survive, the virus having been beaten back into their host cells, unobtainable and dormant until triggered.

“Some current research centers on the development of a booster-like shot, similar to a rabies vaccine, that can inject Malind antibodies into patients with what we call a ‘low count’ of antibodies. The lower the number of antibodies produced before and during an episode, the lower your ‘count’ is. This is measured in a titer. A high antibody count is around 0.5 IU/mL, or neutralization of virions in a 1:5 dilution of blood serum and antibodies when Malind is introduced. For reference, 0.5 IU/mL is the _lowest_ titer for RVNA you should have in your blood before getting a booster shot for rabies. A low count is below 0.3 IU/mL, and anyone near 0.1 IU/mL has almost no ability to stop a furious episode, and is likely to die when triggered. A booster would be extremely useful for those patient with a low count, as they could artificially raise their protection against an episode. Antibody counts are directly linked to the severity of factors that cause a trigger. The higher your count, the more difficult it is.

“So far, the issue with a Malind booster is that is doesn’t always _work_. We are postulating that this is because of something called antigenic drift. Antigenic drift is small changes in viruses over time as they replicate, causing them to eventually become different enough from one another in different hosts to not respond to the same vaccines and medications. A good example would be influenza, which is why you need a flu shot every year for the new strain. In a single host, the antibody can also ‘drift’ to continue fighting the virus, but if you inject a drifted antibody into a different host, you can’t expect it to function.

“Postulating further, and this currently has no research to confirm or deny anything so bear with me, is it possible that Malind is mutating on purpose? Not to give a virus sentience, I speak more in the way of evolution. Is it programmed in such a way to allow rapid evolution, to better suit it for long-term involvement in a host? Remember, rabies is an acute illness, not suited for human hosts in the first place because of its inability to mutate quickly. If this is the case, and given Malind’s propensity to infect new hosts via sexual contact, could we see outbreaks of Malind similar to the yearly strains of influenza within our lifetime?

“But I digress. For a moment I’d like to switch gears, and talk more about current testing for Malind, which is likely the most similar to rabies as compared to anything else I will talk about tonight. The most popular method so far is the RFFIT, or the Rapid Fluorescent-”

“You really are obsessed with me.”

Hux watched Kylo start, slamming the laptop lid shut like a teenager caught watching porn.

“Let me think...spring 2014, at Yale, presentation generally on my published June 2013 paper on the Malind antibody. How did you get that? Yale is a private institution.”

“You can get anything on the internet,” Kylo muttered, pushing the laptop roughly back into its case. “Why are you here?”

Hux had made himself comfortable just outside the door to Kylo’s room. It was a mess, but he had expected nothing less. He also expected that Kylo would be roomed alone. “What, you didn’t think I knew where your room was?”

“I’m just surprised you came.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Hux hurried to say, pulling his hands from his slacks, “I simply walk this way occasionally and you left the door open. It’s hard not to be interested when one hears their own voice where they don’t expect it.”

“Mhm.” The mischievous glint that Hux had come to dread was forming again in Kylo’s eye as he stood up slowly from the bed.

“Speaking of, I’ll be on my way, still have to circuit the whole ground floor of the hospital before dark.” He tried to back away from the doorframe before Kylo caught him. The larger man was unfairly quick on his feet, snagging Hux by the shirt and pulling him back into the room.

“Hey, this is silk you-” Kylo pushed the door closed.

They looked at each other, and Hux refused the growing warmth in his torso that tried to creep up the back of his neck.

“So,” he began, “when I was told you had a bunch of information on me and my work I thought the psychologist was exaggerating.”

“I find your research fascinating.” Kylo came forward, crowding Hux against the door in an obvious attempt to trap him.

“Do you now?”

Hux didn’t believe that, given all that Kylo preached about the virus being akin to some mystical power granted by the universe. They’d had enough arguments over it that Hux was fairly sure he watched the presentations to specifically formulate counterarguments. As Kylo loomed over him he ducked sideways, turning his back into the room and out from the confining circle of his arms. He’d been trapped by that once already, and Hux was not a man to fall for the same thing twice.

Or maybe he was, as Kylo turned around with a triumphant grin. “I mean it,” he said, prowling forward and Hux tried very hard not to be intimidated and laugh at the same time. Kylo was so obvious a blind man would notice. Hux edged around him with the same level of conspicuousness. “I didn’t know a lot about what Malind actually was until you. People didn’t talk about it, hospitals only gave you enough to try and stop episodes. It was like everyone thought talking about it meant making it more real, while the afflicted suffered in ignorance. Then you appeared.” Their circling was becoming too much to pretend to ignore, Hux almost back around to the door again, but he had slowed down to listen. Kylo, talking about himself, was new. “You started presenting and made it accessible for more than just the scientific community. You brought it down from medical obscurity and distributed that knowledge in a way we could understand and utilize. I learned to control it better than I ever have in these last few years because of you. When I saw you that night I thought it must be a fever dream, to find you were so close. I had suspected you were gifted but...it was amazing.”

“You...you really wanted to meet me?” Hux paused fully, just feet away from the door.

“Of course.”

“Oh.” That’s all he could think to say. He’d never heard directly from anyone that they appreciated his work, even though he knew they did. The whole point had been to help the afflicted, even though that selfishly included himself.

Kylo took his opportunity to close the gap, pushing Hux into the door again. Strong hands grabbed his own, warm and dry.

“Malind _is_ more than just a gift, or just a virus. I know that it is part of us, and it lets us be what's truly in our souls but it is also real and can be explained. I wanted to figure it all out, and you seemed to have the rest of the answers.”

“Ha,” Hux snorted, “I don’t. Malind is years, decades maybe, away from being unraveled. I don’t even…”

“I’ll help you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“It’s absurd.”

“The first step is just to let go.”

Kylo pulled him closer, and the sincerity of the moment and Hux’s thoughts burst like an infected cell. “What the hell, Kylo!”

Kylo smiled at him, mouths inches apart. “I’m fairly sure I’ve already been over that. For the sake of not getting punched again, I won’t actually say it.”

“Are you insane? Oh wait, you are.” Hux shoved him back several steps, feet fumbling to stay standing. “Now look. I’ll spell it out. Having sex with you is the stupidest, most unsafe, reckless thing I could choose to do at the moment. Most obviously, the major reason is we both have a _highly_ communicable disease that primarily transfers through sexual fluids. Are you an actual moron? Not to mention I haven’t participated in full intercourse since I got said disease, and I certainly don’t carry any of the required materials! Another point, since you seem to need more convincing than the obvious-”

“Hux.” Kylo interrupted, looking vaguely horrified. “You haven’t had sex in over five years?”

Hux suddenly felt very self conscious. He hadn’t really meant to blurt that, but dammit Kylo made him so mad. “Well, no, but that isn’t the point here. Weren’t you even _listening_ to that presentation? We could make ourselves more likely to trigger by being exposed to each other’s antigens. Kissing you was an idiot move, this is a thousand times worse. Several thousand, actually, if you want to go by the statistics.”

He was still getting a hugely pitying look. He wondered how hard he could kick Kylo in the shin before he stormed out.

“Okay. Counterpoints.” Kylo held up one finger. “Who else would be more equipped to handle any fallout than you or I? Who else could we be with but each other?” He held up a second finger, then a third. “I’ve already been exposed to your antigens plenty of times. I’ve got control, and your antibody count is absurdly high. Last,” he held up a fourth finger then put his arm down, and turned around. He went to the nightstand, and returned with several foil packets clenched goofily between his teeth. It was infuriatingly charming. “I have these. I’m not stupid, honestly.” The last was muffled by the foil, but Hux felt his resolve crumbling. Damn him.

“Where did you get those.” he demanded.

“This is a hospital, they’re on like every reception desk, I just nicked some.”

“Even the lubricant?”

“Well,” Kylo let the packets drop into his hand like a dog dropping a toy. He grinned again. “Those I actually nicked. Medical grade.”

Hux never thought the words ‘medical grade’ would make his cock twitch, but there it was.

“There’s no reason not to do this unless you really don’t want to. What are they gonna do anyways,” Kylo said, raising a playful eyebrow, “prosecute us?”

“Well shit.” Hux muttered. The walls were falling, and he felt every brick. He forged ahead with what was left. “It’s not like we have anywhere to go, quick forays are one thing but any nurse could walk into any room at any time. This takes time, you know that right?” God forbid Kylo was a virgin to this brand of sex. Hux would punch him, steal the condoms and lube, and leave.

“Obviously.” Kylo spread his arms. “Except here.”

“Kylo this is one of the most obvious places for a nurse to go.”

“No, I have explicit permission of privacy. No one comes in unless I say.”

How the hell...Hux gave him a dubious look.

“Connections.” Kylo crossed his heart with a finger.

This man would be the death of him, feral or not. But Hux was stubborn to the last, and tried one more time. “What about noise?”

“You’ll just have to be quiet then. Or I can make you.” Kylo knew he’d won, and moved back into Hux’s space to set hands low on his hips, the little packets between them. Hux looked at him from under his eyebrows.

“You assume it will be me.”

“Should I assume you want to top then?”

Hux grumbled angrily. “No.”

“Okay then.” Kylo was far too self-assured, and Hux was tempted to refuse him out of spite. But god, he just couldn’t. Not when he was so close, so warm, eager, and reaching behind him to lock the door. He made up his mind.

“We are doing this right.” Hux said, breaking away and approaching the bed. Suddenly his concern was about it holding up their combined weight. He regarded it, then stripped out of his clothes, leaving them some approximation of folded on the nightstand, piled over whatever was already there.

Kylo watched him, appreciation clear on his face. “You are beautiful.”

What had made this man so strange that he would freely call another man beautiful? It was embarrassing. Hux was attractive and very fit, he conceded as he looked down at his defined abdomen and well-shaped quads, but anything more was uncalled for. He rubbed his arms, fingers bumping minutely over his scars. If anything, they made it even less true. “It’s cold. Get over here or I’m leaving.”

“Alright, alright,” Kylo placated. He followed Hux’s lead, but left his clothes on the floor. Animal. Hux gave himself an extremely indulgent moment of appreciation for Kylo’s perfectly trim form and wide shoulders, then turned around before Kylo could kiss him. He settled his torso over the bed, legs spread wide and lower arms on the sheets for support.

For some ungodly reason, Kylo hesitated. “You’re sure.”

“For fucks sake, do _not_ make me repeat myself.”

Kylo laughed, and Hux heard foil ripping. He tensed up automatically, then took a huge breath to release it. It would be fine, but going into this aware as opposed to manipulated made things...different. He tried not to think about the virus, virions rushing to his reproductive glands, merging with his sperm cells.

A hand landed gently on his back, and he jumped, sliding slightly on the sheets.

“Calm down. Trust yourself.”

Hux found he was shaking, just barely in his legs. He sighed. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then we’ll stop.” Kylo didn’t sound angry, just resigned. No. No, Hux would not let this opportunity pass. Kylo was right, this was as safe as it got for them. He needed to let go.

“Keep going. I’ll be fine, as you know it's been a while.”

“Too long.” Kylo snorted, “I was wondering why you were so stuck up.”

Hux’s irritated reply was stopped by a cool finger against his entrance. He took regulated breaths, finding shallow comfort in the hand still settled between the dimples just above his hips. It slowly breached him, and the feeling was uncomfortable but wonderfully familiar. It was somehow easier to relax.

Kylo took his time, large fingers lovingly stretching him open, and the other hand took to rubbing Hux’s back, making little circles and nonsense squiggles across the pale expanse. When he finally withdrew Hux had dropped his forehead to the mattress and was panting softly. He knew he needed the extra attention, but couldn’t help but snark. “Took you long enough.”

A quiet moment passed as the sound of another two packets being opened took his attention. Kylo spoke as he stepped close behind Hux, the warmth of his body pleasant on the back of his legs. “Well, it was partly so I could do this.” Kylo lined up and pushed in, Hux’s calmed, loose hole taking him with only a slight sting, the lube and condom letting him bottom out much quicker than Hux had expected. Given that, he started to shout and bit down hard on his lip as his nerve endings lit up in an overwhelming mix of discomfort and pleasure. Kylo had the presence of mind not to move as Hux gasped, returning his hands to his back and dragging them in slow lines on either side of his spine.

Several deep breaths later, Hux gasped, “You shit. You absolute fucking-” he lost his breath as Kylo pulled back an inch and in again smoothly.

“Accurate. You liked it.”

That was something that he would _never_ admit to. The first moment he was entered was always the best. He dug his fingers into the sheets and took another deep breath. He’d come in seconds if he didn’t put his mind to not. It really had been far too long. “Get on with it, or are you going to be insufferable all day?”

“Don’t need to ask twice.” Hux could _hear_ the fucking smirk in his tone, however those thoughts went somewhere far away as Kylo started moving slowly, setting a calm pace that had pleasure tingling down his legs. His lips parted of their own accord as he lost himself to the sensation, and for a short while there was nothing but that and his breathy, short moans when Kylo shifted inside of him.

Of course Kylo had to ruin it. “Hux,” he said, voice low.

“What?”

“Turn over.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” Kylo pulled out, and Hux let out an affronted sound at the loss. Kylo pushed him none-too-subtly towards the bed and Hux begrudgingly climbed onto it properly, plopping on his back. Without warning, Kylo grabbed him by the hips, deeply disheveling the sheets as he dragged Hux to the edge of the bed and reentered him in a sharp motion. Hux grabbed him by the shoulders, legs suddenly pushed up and to either side, clenching his jaw to hold back another shout.

When he blinked his eyes up, Kylo was looking down into them. His browline was sweaty, heaving breaths through his nose, and Hux wondered if he had been holding back just as much. Something clicked between them, and when Kylo started moving again it was much less gentle.

He kept a firm grip on Hux’s hips, helping to lift and angle them to get deeper. Hux rolled them in response, shifting subtly to try and find the elusive spot inside of him that they were both searching for. When Kylo finally found it Hux jerked and moaned, mouth falling open again. Kylo leaned down, taking advantage to kiss him open-mouthed.

“Let it go, Hux,” he said lowly between kisses and his gravely tone made Hux shudder. After a brutal snap of his hips he asked, “Tell me what it felt like.”

“What felt like?” It was hard to focus on what Kylo was saying, trying to keep himself quiet.

“Being feral. The blood on your hands. I know you remember.”

Hux did remember, and those memories flooded in with another surge of pleasure. He dug his nails into the back of Kylo’s shoulders, the phantom taste of copper on his tongue. “I do.”

“Did it feel good.”

“It felt powerful.” The words fell off his lips without consulting his brain first, but Hux couldn’t bring himself to care. Kylo’s rhythm stuttered for only a moment, and his renewed pace was punishing. Hux knew he would be feeling it tomorrow.

“Killing that man, did that feel good?” Kylo asked, panting into his ear as sweat dripped off his nose and onto Hux’s shoulder. Hux dug hard with his nails again, dragging angry red lines over his shoulders.

“I remember...the sound of his skin ripping when I bit him.”

“Did you want to?”

“ _God_ yes. Kylo, please.”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for, feeling the coiling in his gut that refused to spill over. He couldn’t take much more. His fingers felt wet.

“Would you do that to me? Tear me apart?”

“ _Yes_ . I can’t. You,” Hux didn’t have words for his feelings. He would tear him apart, limb by limb and organ by organ, if only to find the source of what was in Kylo that made him feel this way, out of control and yet grounded. For a moment he thought he could understand what Kylo meant by becoming _real_.

Kylo released a low moan at his words, grabbing Hux’s cock in a hand as his rhythm stuttered again. In a few strokes Hux was gone, tight as a bowstring and sound choked in his throat as he came.

“Beautiful,” Kylo muttered, head coming down to rest in the hollow of Hux’s neck as he finished, and Hux felt him twitching in the aftershocks. “beautiful, beautiful….”

Hux tried to wrangle his breathing, heart rate likely through the roof and dangerous. He didn’t feel close to triggering, though, and he filed that thought away to analyze later. He slapped at Kylo’s arms to get him up, and noticed the red streaks he’d left behind. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to.”

Lifting his head, Kylo’s pupils constricted as he took in Hux’s fingertips, a bloodied mess from the gouging done to his shoulders. He huffed a laugh. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Conceited jackass.” Hux’s remorse went wherever all his other fucks had gone when he’d made this stupid decision. He pushed in earnest at Kylo’s chest, earning a groan. “Get up, christ, I need to clean off.” The come splattered across his stomach was hard to ignore. At least he wouldn’t have to clean it from anywhere else.

Kylo smiled lazily at him, taking Hux’s face between his hands for a short moment. “I knew I was right.”

"About what?” Hux asked warily.

“You. Everything. Thank you, Hux.”

_Everything._

Hux closed his eyes tiredly, unable to come up with a reply.

-

It was on a Tuesday that the agent showed up at the hospital. Hux wasn’t told what branch he was from, which he assumed to mean it was an important one, and one that worked more clandestinely than it should given the current US constitution. He was simply called by the Director of the Long-Term Wing (he had gotten very good at purposefully forgetting people’s names when they irritated him), and after sweeping his way to the front desk to take the call, Hux reluctantly walked into the main hospital.

This wasn’t really the best time to be speaking with unknown agents. He’d been contacted more than once in the past about his research, and he had always denied the offers. Just like his decision not to use illicit donations from his afflicted internet acquaintances, he held stiff to his standard to make his research as legitimate as possible. It was a struggle. Not many people knew how hard it was to say no to a very large sum of money, the only catch being that the donating party could use the results as they saw fit. He knew what humans did with power, with knowledge, when it wasn’t held tight under laws and moral obligation. People were greedy, and obsessed with success. He didn’t need any of it, he just needed not to have this monster under his skin anymore. He didn’t want anyone to have it, but he wasn’t going to permanently compromise his conscience just to keep from occasionally losing it to the virus’ grip. Hux was stronger than that.

Making it to the office, he entered without knocking, and stopped short to see Kylo in one of the two chairs across from the desk. Maybe this wasn’t just about him, and his casual irritation turned into a weight of anxiousness in his gut.

“Well isn't this a privilege. Highest and lowest count, in the same room.”

Hux fought not to roll his eyes. As if this man, in a clean but inexpensive grey suit and droopy gaze, knew anything about what antibody count actually meant. He would have been shocked at the reveal of Kylo’s abysmally low count if he hadn’t have already broken into the records room and looked weeks ago. After the initial surprise, he took time to really consider it, and reconciled it with his hypotheses. It really only strengthened his current views on viral control, and where it originated. Kylo didn't have the same compulsion, letting his eyeline hit the ceiling and come back down dramatically. They sat the quiet office while the clock ticked on the wall, conspicuously absent of the man it belonged to, uncomfortable but clearly unwilling to respond. The medical bracelet on Hux’s wrist jingled when he crossed his arms as the silence stretched.

The agent shifted his weight to his other buttcheek in the Director’s chair, clearing his throat. Good, he knew when a tactic fell flat. “I’ve been asked to come here to offer you--”

“No.” Hux cut him off, and pushed himself off the door jamb he had leaned onto. Kylo looked at him sideways, cocking his head to just barely look behind him. Somehow he looked small in the wing-backed chair. The fact he wasn’t talking was throwing Hux off as much as anything else. They hadn’t talked much in the last few days, Hux keeping to his room.

“Dr. Hux,” the man started again, “this isn’t an attempt to partner on your research. We are aware you have been approached before.”

That caught his attention enough to hold Hux in the room, if only for a minute longer. He narrowed his eyes. “What is it, then? Some experiment on us, seeing as we can’t leave? I’m still not interested.”

“That isn’t it either.”

“You seem reluctant to say what exactly _it_ is then.”

Kylo huffed quietly, and Hux flicked his eyes to him again. He was looking at the floor. What the hell was wrong with him? “Hux,” he said quietly, “hear him out.” For once Kylo wasn’t wearing his trademark jacket, and Hux could see the cheerfully yellow hospital bracelet on his wide wrist. He didn’t wear a personal one like Hux did. An animal, uncollared.

“Fine. Speak then.” Hux wasn’t going to be _polite_ and even Kylo asking wouldn’t be enough for that, he didn’t care how good of a lay he was.

“Thank you.” The agent shrugged on his stoic persona again after looking a little confused at their exchange. “I am here to offer you, both of you, the opportunity to serve your country in a delicate operation. There is a organization, which we have recently found to be centered in a town, a small city really, called Frederick. It is rapidly forming into a supremacist terror group.”

“Frederick isn’t far from here.” Truthfully, the city wasn’t far from DC either. Hux had driven through on I-70 once or twice. It was a pretty, middle class suburbia sort of place, with just enough big buildings to qualify as a city. It was a good place to hide a growing group, people wouldn’t look at it too hard.

“It isn’t.” Agreed the agent.

“That doesn’t tell me what you want from us, however. Do they have Malind?”

“No. This offer isn’t about that. We are looking for able bodies to help up take down this group. From our sources they are heavily armed, and a shootout or a standoff is the last thing we want.”

“That’s what SWAT is for.” Hux raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

“We are looking for people who can go in and be less noticed. They are wary, a muscled, obviously trained undercover military figure would not go over well. But you two,” he spread a hand out towards them, “look entirely average.”

Hux didn’t know whether to be insulted or not. For the sake of being annoyed he was leaning towards insulted. “What could we possibly do? I don’t have any experience with firearms.” The experience he did have was being on the wrong end of one, he didn’t relish a repeat. The knot in his gut grew heavier, this conversation was inching in a direction he very much did not like.

“You can infiltrate, and clear the way for the professionals. We have a team handpicked to do the real takedown, but we need to get in. We know the base of operations is below an official city building. Your condition makes you able to defend yourself in the case of discovery. In fact, we would encourage that outcome if such an unfortunate situation should arise.”

“You’re basically telling us we can kill people.” Hux said, trying to mask his shock. He knew it was coming, but they couldn’t be serious.

“No, I’m not,” the agent replied patiently, “I'm telling you that for the success of the takedown of this group in the event it doesn't go exactly to plan, and the plan is very carefully detailed, you would likely be triggering the virus, and if your safety were threatened it would be self defense to protect yourself, even at the expense of the lives of our targets. It says it all here.” He tapped the papers on the Director’s desk. Contracts. NDA’s. Likely enough red tape to string them up for life if they breathed even a word.

The agent took advantage of Hux’s silence, eyes still glued to the stack of papers. “Dr. Hux,” he started, lowering and smoothing his voice in an obvious ploy to seem sympathizing, “this group is not much yet, but they will be. They’ve done enough. Enough for us to believe their lives lost is just as good of an outcome as their capture. You would be doing a great service. And don’t believe we wouldn’t be more tangibly grateful. After a talk with the Director,” he fingered the corner of the nameplate at the corner of the desk, “I am confident we can arrange an exception to your observation time? A shortening, or maybe just a break? Two weeks or so, to do whatever you like.”

He knew, the slimy fuck knew about North Carolina. This was his chance to go there, or better yet to just be able to leave _entirely._ It was a dream come true, at the low, low cost of possibly getting murdered by a terror group.

Hux looked over at Kylo, who was looking at the agent with a shine in his wide eyes that made Hux clench his belly in a strange zing of exhilaration. Then he was looking back at Hux, expectant.

“I'm going to need to think about it.”

“ _What?_ ” Kylo yelled, and Hux shot him an angry look that cowed him quickly. When had Kylo started doing that?

“I understand,” said the agent, “but this is time sensitive. I can only give you until tomorrow morning.”

“That will be enough time.”

“However Kylo, if you’d like to sign now?” Hux paused, body halfway turned to the door.

Kylo took longer than Hux expected to answer, pulling his lower lip into his mouth briefly. He gazed with reverence at the papers, then looked into his lap. “I'll wait until tomorrow morning as well.”

The agent looked somewhat put-out. “Of course. I'll be back tomorrow at nine.” He gathered up his papers and Hux made a quick escape from the room, Kylo lumbering after him. He did not hesitate to shake the larger man quickly, turning down a hallway deeper into the hospital where he knew Kylo would not follow.

-

Hux knew what they wanted, at the bottom of it all. He wasn’t Kylo, so blinded by his desire to be able to _use_ his affliction that he couldn’t see the cover up for what it was.

He fully believed there was a terrorist group. There were plenty of those, trying to gain traction, and the government was constantly trying to snuff them out. Freedom of speech and the right to bear arms really only went so far. But that didn’t mean there weren’t ulterior motives, why wouldn’t there be? Governments were pros at killing several birds with one stone. He and Kylo had no military experience, they only had the raw power that came with the virus, and the experience, in some small way, to control it. It wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together, and he was sure that he was meant to. It simply wasn’t possible, even being invisible to the law, to come out directly and say ‘Yes, we’d like to experiment with using afflicted like living tanks.’ The idea of it made him uncomfortable, deeply so. Wasn’t this making him out to be even more of an animal? Or was this giving him more power over his humanity, to be given the option to use it?

Hux groaned angrily and dropped back onto his bed, fisting his hands in his hair as his bony elbows dug into his thighs. Again, _again_ this argument with himself. He didn’t know what he was anymore. Kylo was all around him, unable to shake off after being _in_ him. As if the lodging of his dick in his ass also lodged his insane preaching into his brain.

He huffed a pathetic laugh. That wasn’t it, but it was easy to blame his sex drive. It was easy to blame Kylo. But the man had been under his skin well before this, and the questions now hounding him had been present long before Kylo. The difference now was, Hux wasn’t sure if he wanted him to leave. He wanted to answer those questions, rather than hiding them away again and pretending he was fine.

Like some sort of mind reader, a knock came to his door. “Hux?” He heard murmured through the wood. Hux looked at the cheap alarm clock on the nightstand. Past midnight.

He didn’t answer, and a few seconds and a metal scritching sound later, the door opened. He just caught a glimpse of Kylo sticking something back in his jacket pocket as he closed the door behind him.

Avoiding Kylo had been a matter of keeping to himself, in his room, sleeping off the fatigue of their little escapade, needing to have to time alone to think, sort out where he stood now. It was tiring, being so unsure, and this newest wrench thrown in his life was not very welcome. He knew it probably hurt Kylo to be staunchly avoided, after having very good sex, for seemingly no reason at all, but it didn’t matter. Hux had always been selfish. He would not stop now.

Hux glared through the feathery orange curtain of his hair, pulled out of style from his manic fingers. “Stop doing that.”

“Start answering me.”

Hux sighed. He could never get anywhere with Kylo. He was a sandcastle on the beach and Kylo was the tide. Everytime he came close, he would pull more of Hux away with him.

Kylo took Hux’s face between his hands, leaning over him and tilting his head up to meet his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“You. I’ve told you that. Always making me repeat myself.” He smiled softly.

 _Everything_.

The memory echoed around in Hux’s head again. He closed his eyes as Kylo leaned down to kiss him. When he pulled away, letting their lips echo warmth onto each other, there was a sadness in his eyes.

“You can say no, Hux. But I don’t know if I can. I want you there with me, and I know, in a place you won’t admit to, you want that too. But I won’t make you. Being feral is a choice, a strength, and if you don’t embrace it it will not serve you as it should. Your emotions will control you.”

“You’ll be alone.” Hux whispered, unsure when the idea began to make his chest ache.

“It won’t be the first time.” Kylo shrugged, standing back up and releasing his cheeks, fingertips lingering over his cheekbones.

Hux grabbed his fingers, drawing him back and down, leaning back to pull Kylo over him, perpendicular to the true orientation of the bed. They barely fit, Hux’s legs dangling over a few inches above the knee and his head dangerously close to slipping off the other side, but he dropped Kylo’s hands above his shoulders and wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck.

Kylo took the hint and kissed him again, and Hux slowly slid his hands into Kylo’s jacket, slipping it from his shoulders. Gently and without breaking their connection, Kylo lifted one arm after the other to let the jacket be pulled off and tossed to the floor. His t-shirt was a dark grey, and a soft fabric that Hux thought had to be pure polyester. He traced his hands all over it, softly playing over the ridges of Kylo’s muscles, sliding over his heavy shoulders and down his arms. When the shirtsleeves ended the fingers of his left hand met with flesh, puckered and smooth. He pulled away and looked over, eyes making a circle of the lines of the bite scar. He curled his hand around it, covering it from view.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

Carefully, as if taming a scared forest animal, Kylo lifted Hux’s fingers and shifted the hand to rest just below the scar. “I’m not.”

“That will never go away,” Hux said, trying to speak without his voice cracking, “it was brutal and I _remember_ it. We shouldn’t do this to people, we shouldn’t-”

“Hush,” Kylo said, sitting back on his legs enough to have room to move his arms, “you don’t understand. I love this scar. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This scar is _you_ . I can trace the pattern of your teeth, I can touch it and remember the purity of pain when you did it, how pure _you_ were. Every scar I have is a memory, a reminder of our humanity and I was never more aware of it than when I was fighting you.”

Hux stared at him, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He wiped it away, removing his hand from Kylo’s arm. Kylo put it back.

“Kylo-”

“Just feel it. Feel me. Feel what you’ve done and take pride in it.” Kylo leaned over him again, impossibly large and looming and Hux felt inexplicably safe despite his own size.

They kissed again, and Kylo supported himself on one arm as his other traveled down to stroke Hux through his pants. Hux sucked in a breath, letting it out with a small desperate sound. Kylo had wrecked his senses, fed his need and he was utterly powerless to deny him anymore. He dug his fingers into the scar without thinking and Kylo gasped into his mouth.

“Besides,” Kylo breathed, moving to lavish open-mouthed kisses onto Hux’s neck, “I think about the fact that my flesh, my blood and life has been consumed by you, and it fucking gets me-” Kylo broke off and rubbed harder; Hux bucked up into his hand, gasping. Fuck, that shouldn’t be so arousing. This was sick. They were sick, absolutely deranged but there was no way he was going to stop Kylo now.

Their kisses grew sloppy and needy, and finally Kylo yanked himself away to pull his pants down.

“Kylo we don’t have time,”

“I know, but there’s enough for this. Gimme,”

He held his hand out, and Hux caught his drift. He pulled the nightstand open and rummaged to find the medical lubricant that Kylo had swiped and hid in Hux’s room without asking. Cheeky bastard. He handed it to Kylo, who ripped the foil packaging open with his teeth. Hux couldn’t look away from his face, open and focused and wanting, as he held the open little package between his teeth and pulled Hux’s pants down with his free hands.

Kylo liberally squeezed the lube into his hand and wrapped it around Hux, cock already hard and jutting up from between his legs. Hux jerked just a little, the coolness of it quickly warming between their skin. He had a tendency, it seemed, to hold onto Kylo for dear life in times like these, and he did so, hands clamped tight to his forearms.

As his fingers dug in Kylo worked him harder, coming up on every stroke to pass a quick, tight fist over the head that had Hux shutting his eyes with a groan.

He forced them back open to look at Kylo, his erection sitting heavily on the junction of Hux’s thigh and hip. He wanted it suddenly, in his mouth particularly. Before he could give in to the urge he shook himself mentally. It could not get worse than him ingesting viral particles. Maybe one day, but not today. But he could do something else.

Reaching down, Hux snagged the packet and put what was left of the lube on his own fingers as Kylo watched him. The confusion on his face was cute, and Hux let it and his next expression of utter shock and lust wash into the greater mass of his pleasure as he took Kylo in hand.

“Jesus fuck, Hux,” Kylo gasped, curling in on himself slightly as Hux eased him up to the same pace as Hux was experiencing. He didn’t mind how Kylo’s hand became unsteady, it only made it easier to focus on Kylo himself. He looked lost, and soft.

“I want you to be feral with me again,” Kylo said between breaths, getting some amount of control over himself again. Hux tried to be distracted by his task but hearing Kylo say something so wrong had his chest and neck flushing. Kylo was relentless, tugging hard as he continued, “it felt different. It felt right, it felt clear, I know you felt it.”

He didn’t answer, burying his face into Kylo’s wrist over Hux’s shoulder.

Kylo leaned down enough to tug an earlobe between his teeth, simultaneously squeezing the base of Hux’s cock. Hux gasped, eyes snapping open again.

“ _Please_ , Hux,” Kylo begged quietly, “I know you did.”

Hux let out a whimpering moan, frustrated by his inability to control his reaction to Kylo’s filthy talk. “I did, damn you. It never-” he broke off as Kylo did a tortuously wonderful twist of his hand, “felt, like that. Before.”

“Good.” Kylo said, voice wrecked, and spilled over Hux’s hand, some of his seed jumping to land on his stomach. He didn’t lose grip of Hux. He leaned back in to whisper in his ear.

“I love your scars on me. You’re with me. Be with me, Hux.”

He couldn’t fight it off, his orgasm slamming into him as Kylo’s words snaked into his ear. His head pressed back over the edge of the bed, as he heaved in air. “Fine,” he panted, “fine.”

Kylo kissed his chest over and over, carefully staying away from the mess on Hux’s abdomen. Hux laughed at the effort. As if they weren’t absolutely ruined already.

-

“We’ll sign.”

“Good, I’ll-”

“But first I require an hour with the contract, _alone_ , to read it and then ask questions, and you will need to answer all of them, and I also have a condition.”

The agent gave him a wary eye. “Alright. What condition?”

Hux glanced at Kylo, who was looking at him in vague confusion. He smiled thinly.

“Any transfer or change in my observation time also applies to Kylo. Exactly. If I get two weeks, he gets the same. If I get released early, so does he. The same day at the same time. We will also need to negotiate a date, as ‘early’ doesn’t guarantee much.”

Kylo was still looking at him, but the confusion shifted towards awe and he smiled back slowly. Hux didn’t look longer than necessary, he couldn’t afford to appear weak in this battle of wills. The agent was watching him critically, before picking up a contract packet and holding it out to Hux. “Agreed. In an hour we can get through your questions and finalize terms, but I must warn you that very little verbiage in this contract is subject to change. The most flexible point we have is the form of our gratitude for your service.”

“I understand.” That didn’t mean he would read it any less thoroughly, or have any fewer questions. This was likely to be extremely dangerous, and he wanted to know all the loopholes and escape clauses there could be.

The hour passed mostly in quiet, with Hux diligently reading every line and Kylo clearly making an attempt but fidgeting after the first ten minutes. Hux rolled his eyes, now that they were alone.

“Kylo, stop that.”

“Stop what?”

To resist the urge to hit Kylo was almost physically painful. He knew it didn’t do anything, but it made him feel better.

“ _Moving_. It’s distracting and we are on a time limit.”

Kylo slumped back in his chair, abandoning the thick pile of sheets. “I can handle whatever they throw at me. So can you, so let's just sign and _go._ ”

“Don’t be an idiot. This contract may require us to cease existing, officially. It may require more observation post-ops. It may require us to undergo tests. You can’t just charge ahead into everything claws first, Kylo, the civilized world you must contend with doesn’t work that way.”

“Claws?”

Hux realized his slip, and angled his face away. “I mean...your nails. They are abhorrently long.”

Kylo grinned cockily at him and Hux revised his prior thought: he _really_ wanted to hit Kylo. Kylo opened his mouth but Hux snapped “Just read the damn thing,” and got back to it, fighting down his blush.

When the agent returned, Hux had a list of questions long enough to fill a notepad page. The agent bore it admirably, and impressively was able to answer them all without hesitation. He knew the contract, and he looked to be willing to stick to it. Hux flatly denied the post-op serum test to measure hormones in their blood. They had no business knowing that. Kylo actually had a few questions of his own, regarding the operation itself. The agent placated him by stating that once they moved into Frederick to rendezvous with the military force that would be assisting them, they would have a long session on logistics.

Finally, Hux had one question left, pen in hand and poised over the signature line. “Can you guarantee we will not be harmed by your group if we do have an episode?”

“Everyone will be equipped with tranquilizer guns, and are trained in where to hit you for maximum effectiveness. They are also proficient in hand-to-hand, if restraining you is necessary.”

Hux nodded, and signed, and Kylo went to do the same after taking the pen from Hux’s fingers.

“Though, given your history with the Guard, I doubt your focus will be a problem?”

Kylo froze, pen held in the middle of a looping _e_. His eyes were wide, and the agent glanced between them.

“You aren’t involved, then?” He asked Hux. Hux thought quickly, trying to figure out what the man was talking about.

No.

_No way._

He smiled tightly, and it looked more like a grimace. “No, I’m not.” He very firmly did not look at Kylo, who slowly finished the _n_ in his name. In awkward parentheses he scribbled his birth name. Rage began bubbling in Hux’s chest, and he swallowed down the wave of hot bile that rose in his esophagus.

“Ah.” Said the agent. He seemed to know exactly what he had done, but Hux couldn’t tell whether it had been purposeful or not. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. The man carefully took the forms back and said “That’s it then. A car will be here to pick you up the day after tomorrow. Please be ready at eight.”

Hux nodded and left before he couldn’t hold in his feelings anymore.

He knew Kylo was behind him. Digging his nails into his palms, he made it all the way out of the main hospital, to their wing, and to the hallway he had begun to affectionately think of as _theirs_ before whirling on the bigger man, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him roughly into the closet they’d come to know all too well.

He shoved Kylo against the shelves, rattling them. Kylo didn’t fight it.

“ _The Guard?”_ Hux growled lowly, barely keeping himself from shouting. Kylo said nothing.

Hux put his face in his hand, fingers digging into his temples. “Ren. Kylo _Ren_. How did it take me so long? I’m an idiot.”

“Hux, I-”

“ _Shut up, Kylo.”_

Kylo shut up.

Hux took in a large breath, clenching his teeth. “How the fuck did I not...Jesus.” He looked up, spearing Kylo with his eyes, the green turned stormy mixed with blue in his anger. “After all this, us, I...at least tell me you haven't tried to spread it because if you have I will kill you right here, I will rip you to pieces.”

The Ren Guard was the subject of much anxious whispering among those with Malind, spoke of as a legend, but Hux knew they were very real. As far as he had been able to gather from broken bits of forum threads that were quickly deleted, the Guard was a group of afflicted that believed they were gifted, a step above humans, and had been arrested and removed from the public eye covertly many times over the past twenty years for offenses related to Malind attacks and spreading misinformation. Rumor was, the Guard, number of members unknown, would spread Malind to those they found worthy, and only allow the faithful and powerful, whatever that meant, into their ranks. They were a blight, an insult to people like Hux who recognized the virus as the opposite of a gift, as nothing more than an organism trying to survive in a host. It all clicked together so easily now, and all of Kylo’s manic ramblings made sense in context.

“Kylo.” He said again, when the other man did not answer him immediately. “Have you spread it.”

Kylo was looking at Hux’s chest rather than his face. “Not personally, no. No one is worthy. At least, I don’t believe I have the authority to make that choice. To give it...it would be playing God.”

“ _Fuck_ , Kylo. I can’t believe I-” Hux shoved his face into his hand again. He was somewhat placated by the response, but this whole situation railed against his own beliefs. But then again, isn’t that what Kylo always did?

“Why are you one of them? Tell me.”

A sigh. “They took me in. When I was fifteen I ran away from home. Well,” he laughed bitterly, “it wasn’t home. I hadn’t stayed at home since I was eleven. I got Malind on my birthday, did you know that? My tenth birthday and we were in a park, and I had wandered away from the group while they were all playing piñata, and this man came out of the bushes and attacked me. When I couldn’t,” he paused, searching for words, “when I proved to have little control over it, my parents put me in a hospital. I was there for four years, and it didn’t help. So I left. I went to a library, and started searching for people who could take me in. They found me, and offered me shelter and help. My antibody count is low, but it used to be worse. I used to be...volatile. Because of them I can live outside, I can use this power the way I want. They understand what it means to have this gift and use it to its potential. We just want people to understand.”

It was hard to argue with such a story. Hux couldn’t imagine having Malind as a child, when you felt things so strongly and the environment was a constant source of overwhelming stimuli.

“They’ve terrorized people with Malind, and people who support the search for a cure.” Hux said, trying to re-stoke the fire in his chest. Kylo’s expression was so sad, lost in memory.

“I can’t...some of the others, they feel more strongly about Malind, and are more willing to do something about it. I’ve kept to myself. But I can’t leave them. I won’t. They’ve given me everything. But I have distanced myself. I can promise, swear, that I haven’t given it to anyone else. I’m more interested in those who already have it. I’m more interested in you.” Kylo reached out and placed his hand on the side of Hux’s neck. Hux closed his eyes against the warmth. “I’m in the Guard for life, but I don’t need to be active.”

“Dammit, Kylo.” Hux whispered. When did he become so weak? Before this mess, he would have decked anyone even loosely involved with the Ren Guard. He would have decked anyone related to the EVOS group too. His normal feelings of disgust over pro-Malind groups was dampened when he looked at Kylo. Was he compromising his beliefs by staying around Kylo? Hadn’t he already?

“This is meant for us, Hux. Believe me. I’ll stay with you, because you want me to.” Kylo pulled him close and Hux went stiffy into his embrace.

Kylo slowly began dragging his fingers up and down Hux’s arms, and as Hux involuntarily relaxed he got more adventurous, pulling the tucked hem of his button down out and skimming his nails across Hux’s belly and sides. He dragged over the bullet scar, and Hux hissed, trying to pull away. Kylo held him close.

“Kylo stop.”

“Kiss me.”

Hux scoffed but complied, and Kylo’s climbing fingers stepped across each of his ribs. As their kiss became more heated, they returned to his abdomen. Hux tried to pull away again.

“You have to accept this.” Kylo was watching him with those damn large eyes that Hux felt he couldn’t hide from.

“Oh, now I have to accept something else? I think I’ve done quite enough of that for today. Why don’t you do as I ask?”

“I do as you ask quite a lot, actually.”

Hux tsk’d.

“I mean it.” Kylo said, “I will do a lot for you, but you have yet to really let go for me. We won’t make it if you can’t accept who you are.”

As emphasis, Kylo dug his hands into his softer sides as he kissed Hux roughly. Hux, scar aching in a way that was mostly in his head, pulled back a third time.

“I swear Kylo, knock it off. I’ve had enough toda-”

His face flew to the side, and he didn’t recognize he’d been slapped until the coppery taste of blood hit his tongue. Then the burning set in on his cheek, fiery and instantly enraging. Hux turned back, snarling, and felt his heart rate pick up. No one had ever dared to slap him before.

Blood coated his tongue from the places he’d cut his cheeks open with his teeth as Kylo glared. For a moment they were back in his apartment, having the staredown that reset the course of their lives.

“Listen to me closely.” Kylo growled, looking just as angry as he did on that hot day. “Stop holding back. You’ve made this decision, you signed the papers, and your life is now on the line. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to protect you, and I don’t want to need to. There’s no fucking time to think about it anymore. We do this in two days, maybe the day after. There’s no backing out. You’ve committed, so goddamn act like it and stop pretending you’re normal, that your scars don’t define you. They do, and you need to embrace the memory of them _now_ . Don’t hold back because you’re scared of who you’ll be. Malind is part of you. You have to _live_ . If you don’t, you may as well be dead before you step foot into this deathtrap we’ve signed up for. I won’t carry your fucking body out of there so _accept it_.”

Hux stared, mind ground to a halt, in the wake of his words the only sound was his heartbeat thudding in his ears. The weight of his decision fell upon him suddenly. He’d been so focused on the reward, he’d put aside what doing it could mean. So sure of himself, having never truly failed at anything he could control, the possibility of the ultimate price being paid was not one that he had seriously considered. It was too soon to be having this many revelations. Heart hammering, he felt his chest heaving as fear set in.

Kylo grabbed his arms, shaking him twice to get his attention. Hux was frozen, staring past him to the opposite wall. “Hey. You can’t do that here. Save it for the operation. Calm down Hux, use those techniques you keep saying are so great.”

Hux met his eyes, and tried to get his breathing under control. It wasn’t working.

“Fuckin- now you want to let it out, of course. Okay.” Kylo rubbed Hux’s arms, looking around. “I’m really not equipped to _stop_ an episode,” Hux moved to grab Kylo’s waist in a clawing grip, red staining the line between his lips. “Okay,” Hux had never seen him look so frantic and it made his own panic worse, “so what is it, temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, stress response, some other shit, fuck.”

Hux dropped to his knees, shaking and still holding on to Kylo by his fingertips. He was trying to calm his breathing, to make the roaring in his ears die down, but it was as if he could _feel_ the virus in his blood, making him quiver like a leaf in a storm. Coming down to sit on his level, Kylo plopped back onto his butt. “Okay, okay, come here then.” With a tug, Hux tumbled forward into his lap and Kylo wrapped him up in his arms. It was uncomfortable in the extreme, Hux was frankly too large to be sitting in a man’s lap who was only two inches taller than him, and they were both muscular enough that it was a bit too firm of an embrace for comfort.

Dammit, Hux thought, when did I get to this point? Despite the awkwardness of their positioning, the tightness in his chest was loosening. His thoughts managed to move back into full sentences rather than impulses. He took a large, normal breath and let it out. The damn hug was helping, and the twitching in his fingers abated.

After several minutes, Kylo shifted. “C’mere,” Kylo murmured, and tilted Hux’s chin up to look at him. “Your eyes are getting better, I think. It’s dim in here, so they’ll be a little big no matter what. Want to move? I’m a bit warm to be that helpful.”

Shaking his head, Hux dropped it to the side and onto Kylo’s shoulder, heaving out forcefully slow breaths, just to be sure. Kylo began awkwardly rubbing his back, clearly hesitant.

After a moment, Hux laughed.

“What?” Kylo sounded mildly offended.

“ _You_ are stopping _me_ from triggering. I’m pretty sure I’ve gone insane. Or you’ve become stable.”

Kylo snorted. “I’d just like us to _get_ to Frederick. Neither of us would appreciate another six months from going feral in a storage closet.”

“True.” Hux sighed, able to breathe normally again. He felt a twinge of pride: he doubted anyone else that close to an episode would have been able to stop it. “You made your point. I must see it through.” He’d been walking on metaphorical eggshells for five years. His caution had served him well, but now it would just hold him from success. He could do this once, and then go back. But back to what? Hux pushed that thought away. He could deal with it after the imminent threat to their lives had passed.

-

They were given a day to organize affairs or whatever else they needed. Kylo scoffed and Hux shared the sentiment, but quietly kept to his computer. He’d had his affairs in order since he contracted Malind, and updated his power of attorney and will every year. When you had a disease that made you lose your damn mind, you had to have legal contingency plans.

So he decided to spend the day catching up on the forums, leaving little trace but gathering whatever small details stood out to him: retellings of triggering events, what people were doing to control their environments, information about medical stays and treatments. Hux learned almost as much about Malind through people simply telling him as compared to actual research. The afflicted were quite honest, when among peers. It was a strange little community, but they stood together for the most part and were earnestly supportive. Unless they weren’t _really_ part of the community.

That was how he found out.

He was sitting with Kylo, legs touching as they sat on a bench in one of the gardens, the morning quickly slipping away from them. They’d go inside soon, when the sun got too high and threatened Hux’s skin, but for now Kylo was quietly dozing in the warmth, the overhanging tree painting his skin in shifting patterns of grey. They’d had their morning workout, eaten breakfast, and moved out here. It was lovely, and calming, which Hux didn’t know he would need as he clicked into a thread with his name on it. That happened now and then, he _was_ a top researcher for the disease, and people liked to start discussions about one aspect of his work or another, lending personal details to build arguments. Watching people try and reconcile their lives to his research was fascinating.

The thread started with a piece of information picked out from his last presentation at Johns Hopkins, and he snorted with the irony. Starting yesterday, they were talking about the history of Malind and its transmission from animals to humans, which then turned into a personal conversation about how the posters had contracted it. Most were sexual encounters, animals with Malind really _were_ rare in the US, but several voices from Africa stood out as being attacked by feral animals.

His amusement at the irony, however, was short lived.

 **_Answerly:_ ** _I got it as most people do I think, my boyfriend. We had been together for several years, and he thought he had a cold. Obviously, it was the initial stage, and he gave it to me then before either of us knew. I thought I got it when he scratched me, after he went feral in our apartment. Pretty standard._

 **_Virionest:_ ** _Same, mostly. Except girlfriend. Well, she wasn’t really my girlfriend. Was diagnosed only a few months ago. I wonder how Dr. Hux got it?_

 **_Forcister3:_ ** _What? You don’t mean Braeden Hux, do you?_

 **_Virionest:_ ** _Yeah. I have a friend who works at a hospital, she took this pic because she knows about me._

Attached to the post was a snapchat screenshot, and typed on it was ‘look who i saw!’ Drawn on it was a little yellow arrow with a question mark next to it, pointing at the bracelets on his wrist. The photo was slightly blurry, but clearly him on one of his walks through the hospital.

“Oh my god.”

Kylo cracked open an eye. “What?”

“Oh my god.” Hux said again, already retro-searching the picture. It was posted on someone's personal blog, and a cursory check showed it as a medical student from Johns Hopkins. Had they been at his presentation? None of the usernames in the thread were familiar to him, he knew no one who already knew would out him like this anyways, they often didn’t even go on these more relaxed forums.

A Google image search turned up the photo as well within the first page. A couple grainier iterations linked to other threads in small places, asking the same question: Who knew Dr. Hux had Malind? It hadn’t gotten far but, if medical students knew, well, it wasn’t going to stay hidden for long.

“They know.” Hux sat back, not caring that his shirt was rubbing against the rough stone of the bench. “This will be in mainstream media in days.” Suddenly he hated himself. Why did he think he could walk around the hospital like that, pretending no one would notice? For some reason he’d harbored this idea that hospitals were safe spaces, covered by this all-encompassing blanket of Protected Information and non-disclosure. Of course they weren’t. He had basically handed the very medical students he’d been teaching less than a year ago the perfect way to end his career.

“Know what-oh.” Kylo had leaned over, holding his hand out over the top of the laptop to cut the glare.

“Yes. Oh. The _internet_ knows I have super rabies.”

Kylo started laughing, and Hux scowled at him.

“Do you have a _problem?_ I’ve just told you my career is effectively over.”

He kept laughing, and it wasn’t hard to find the will to punch Kylo hard in the arm.

“Ow, okay, okay,” Kylo said, getting himself under control, “I just, never thought you’d say _super rabies_. It’s hilarious.”

“I’m so glad you’re amused.” Hux replied dryly. “Do you happen to have any opinion on the life-altering fact I just told you?”

Kylo sobered fully, but there was a quirk that didn’t leave his lips. “This isn’t life-altering. _Getting_ Malind was life-altering. This is just a little change. The fact that they know now doesn’t have to be a big thing, just own it.”

“Own it.”

“Yeah. Don’t deny it, don’t try to cover it up. Isn’t everything you’ve done more impressive with the backdrop of knowledge that you are afflicted too? You could bring a new face to it. You are what the afflicted should be, not hidden away in hospitals and unable to live for ourselves. Let the world know.”

Hux gave him a critical eye. “I was under the impression that you didn’t support people knowing about Malind.”

“Well it's none of anyone's goddamn business.” Kylo said, leaning back again, “But those with it should be proud enough to say it. People should know what it is, what power we hold, but because we told them, not because they took that knowledge from us.”

Hux could see the point he was making. In general, he agreed. However. “Becoming an open advocate doesn’t mean I’ll get to keep my job. There’s no guarantee they’ll find me fit to continue in an educational capacity, it's not as if my antibody count means anything to them. The fact is, I kept it from the university.”

“So work for this university.”

“Johns Hopkins?”

“They did offer you grant money already. Its not as if they don’t know what they’re getting. You have options.”

Hux sighed. “I could have done without this.”

“Life is change.” Kylo said simply. “We adapt.”

-

The car that picked them up was average, as was the trip, as was the building they entered when they got there. That was when things stopped being average.

After they went down the first flight of steps they came to a large basement that had been converted into a center of operations. For all it was impressive, with a couple big screens and many small ones and blinking lights and tables with papers and people talking over them and maps on the wall, Hux felt it looked very much like a movie. Well, that was alright he supposed. People didn’t really die in movies, did they.

Kylo was hovering behind him, and with a small tug of his hoodie sleeve, Hux pulled him so they stood side by side. It was best to show a united front in this situation. Kylo looked over and gave him a wan smile, which he returned with something that was probably more like a grimace.

“Gentlemen, glad you could join us,” said a woman at the far end of the table. She was tall, and bulky but with a still strikingly feminine face. Her platinum blonde hair was short cropped, hard to grab or get in the way but it fit well with her somewhat squared jaw. He noted her outfit, conspicuously devoid of any insignia or rank markers.

She didn’t wait for them to say anything, which was good as Hux planned to keep his mouth firmly shut unless it was important. “My name is Chromia, and I will be leading this operation. As you both go in, I will be here, directing the strike team for the best moment to move in and overseeing their, and your, success. You will get a thorough briefing, be wired and camed, and then we will begin. There’s plenty of daylight, we hope to have you in by three pm.”

That was six hours. Six hours until they were forced to live or die. Hux took a breath, and chastised himself for dramatics. There was nothing yet to say they would even be in any danger. There was a fine chance that the operation would go off perfectly, that they would be the little mice they needed to be and would be able to sweep out easily without a scratch.

Yes, and Hux had a Ph.D in _making shit up_ apparently _._ He could feel Kylo’s heat next to him. It was bolstering, and he stood up straighter. This would be fine.

The briefing was an agonizing several hours in very uncomfortable folding chairs, but Hux paid close attention and took mental notes despite his ass falling asleep every twenty minutes. Kylo seemed to be equally as enraptured, and it was interesting to look over and see that intensity directed at something other than him. Once or twice he caught himself looking too long, snagging the end of a sentence from Chromia and snapping back to attention.

Really, it would be quite simple. They would enter from the front, as the place was still open, and carefully move between the cameras towards the back, where they could cut them off with a little USB insert that Chromia promised would put the feeds on a loop. Supposedly they would go unnoticed for a while, as not many people entered the building anyways. It sounded like some action movie nonsense to Hux, but he nodded along. Then, they would go into the lower area to find the main base of operations for the group. Once they found it, they were to find somewhere private, radio in the information she asked for, and try to extract themselves. Otherwise, secure a position, sit tight, and wait. She gave them a few passphrases, as apparently the group looked just as average as them, and did not keep a close roster of their members. Very secure, thought Hux sarcastically. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult.

Then she made a list of the weapons they were known to be carrying in their little hideout, and his stomach dropped. The lengthy list of handguns was the least of the concerns. Under the table, Kylo took his hand, squeezed and smirked with the corner of his mouth that Hux could see, flicking his eyes over briefly.

This was absolutely ludicrous.

-

Five hours passed, as Hux’s heart made a new place in his throat. They were given fifteen minutes to refresh themselves, stretch, “Whatever you need to prepare, but make it quick.” said Chromia. Hux took the time to greet the other people in the room, supposedly some of the strike team if their serious bearing and clothing were any indicator. They made no unsavory expressions at him, simply glancing to his bracelet once with a look that was possibly appraisal. Hux felt somewhat relieved, for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint.

Kylo walked up to Chromia, saying loud enough for everyone to hear, “What tranq formula do you have?”

Chromia eyed him. “Standard police issue.”

“If we do go feral,” Kylo said it like _if_ meant _when_ , “hit me twice.”

What the fuck? Hux had turned to look at him incredulously, but Chromia shrugged. “Alright. I’ll tell the team if it comes to that.” She said _if_ the same way he did. This did not bode well.

Hux took him by the elbow as Kylo walked over, steering them away from the nearest soldier. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kylo.”

Kylo tilted his head. “I won’t, but I am going to be prepared. Besides, when have I ever done anything stupid?” He gave Hux a cocky grin that Hux wanted to wipe off his face. How, he wasn’t sure.

“Gentlemen,” Chromia called, and they turned around. “Five minutes.”

“Shit,” Hux muttered, the same time as Kylo said, “I’ll be back.”

Kylo peeled away from him, disappearing into the bathroom. Hux decided to take the rest of his time to ask Chromia last minute questions, flooding in with every second that clicked down on the stopwatch in his mind. He wasn’t...afraid, exactly. It was a more complicated emotion.

As Kylo reemerged, Hux let the feeling settle over him. Chromia brought them in, and they were given tiny microphones, earpieces, and cameras, hidden expertly on their bodies.

“Dr. Hux.” she said in a stern tone, causing him to jerk to look at her. She looked down his torso, causing him to follow suit.

Ah. Of course. His bracelet. He’d cut off the hospital ones, grateful to be leaving it behind. He glanced over to Kylo, who was looking at his, apparently having neglected to remember it. The happy yellow color had faded in recent months, and Hux could just read the edge of _Solo_. He watched Kylo hook a finger under the plastic, and looked up to meet his eyes. Kylo waited.

Hux set his fingers to the clasp on his bracelet, and in an unspoken agreement they took them off simultaneously. Kylo’s snapped audibly as he yanked it apart, fluttering to the ground. Hux let his crumple into his fist. He held it out to Chromia.

“Watch this for me?”

“Yeah,” she replied, and for a moment her voice lost its hard edge.

“Okay,” said Hux, rubbing his newly empty wrist, “let’s do it.”

-

Things had gone well, until they very suddenly didn’t.

All it took was one pass phrase uttered incorrectly (“Bring an end to the Senate” as opposed to the correct “Bring an end to it”, how did Kylo mess that up that badly?) and they were being looked at funny, being asked questions about who inducted them. Then Hux was moving, using his old, old, martial arts training to twist a gun out of the man’s hand and knocking him to the ground with a well-placed knee to the solar plexus.

Kylo looked insanely pleased, and Hux almost turned next to hit him in his frustration. Then the next person had rounded the corner, and shouted, and all of those feelings were funneled into a point of clarity: they were blown. It was time to go.

Thankfully they’d already completed the objectives, and Chromia said the strike team was heading in, but that didn’t stop the spike of panic as two more men emerged from the perpendicular hallway, their guns flashing in the fluorescents and at odds with the fake-classical style of the halls.

_“Get someplace safe, now.”_

Chromia’s voice in his ear made Hux lose focus for a second, and as they ran down the hall he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the body that whipped out at him from behind a door he had not seen opening inward.

Pain sparked along his jaw, the butt of the gun striking along it in a sickening slide. He felt his skin split, and he crashed to the ground as Kylo skidded to a stop.

“Hux!”

“Fuck!” Hux shouted, resisting the urge to put his hand to his face. He instead used both to grab his assailant around the ankle and yank them down. The thud and groan of pain was almost retribution enough.

“C’mon!” Kylo yelled, and pulled him up by the arm, kicking the man on the floor in the face as he tried to sit up. Hux let the momentum guide him into the room and Kylo slammed the door shut, bolting it.

Bangs of several pairs of hands on the door followed swiftly. Hux looked around noticing it was a little break room and he let out a laugh. It was so...average. His mirth was arrested as a shot echoed deafeningly, blowing a small hole near the handle or the door.

“Shit.” Kylo said, looking over. “Sorry about that.” Hux wasn’t sure if he meant blowing their cover or the massive gash on his face, seeping blood steadily onto his shirt. Either way, he shrugged.

“Expected, though I was hoping against it.”

“You ready?” Kylo asked, punctuated by another gunshot and the sound of a foot kicking the door. It was quite sturdy, but it wouldn’t last. He watched Kylo pull off his jacket and gloves. He hadn’t noticed them before, but thinking back he could fit them to the memory of Kylo breaking his bracelet. As he tugged them off finger by finger, Hux looked on.

Kylo had painted his arms black for the occasion, a dusty consistency that was darkest on his fingers and long nails and faded in streaks into nothing on his elbows. An image struck him from deep in his psyche, pulled from dreams: black arms darkening into black everything, and a face with too many teeth that smiled only at him. Kylo’s big, normal teeth glinted in the yellow lighting as he looked over to Hux, who raised an eyebrow to cover his surprise but could not hold back a smirk that was rapidly becoming fond.

Yes, Kylo was surely crazy, but if Hux was here with him, surely he was too. He absently touched his jaw, coming away predictably bloody with a sting of parted flesh, and pushed the hair out of his eyes with the same hand as Kylo’s fingers began to twitch.

He took a deep breath, then several more in rapid succession. He let the fear, the pain, the rage, the lust, everything in. His muscles tensed to the point of pain, and with an inhuman, barely controlled jerk of his head saw Kylo in the same state as his consciousness faded to the background. There was only focus on the danger ahead, and he relished it. He and Kylo lunged forward together as the door burst open.

 

_There's a place in the dark where the animals go_

_You can take off your skin in the cannibal glow_

_Juliet loves a beat and the lust it commands_

_Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo_


	5. Epilogue

_Don't say who you are, say who you are cause,_

_who you are doesn't matter_  
_We find us here again_ _  
Say who you are,_ _say who you are,_

 _cause who you are doesn't matter_ _  
_ _When we're dancing glorious_

 

 

**Two more people have tested positive for Malind caused by local infected cats, including one person who does not live in the previously identified Dare County believed to be the origin of the transmission, state officials said on Tuesday.**

**North Carolina now has four confirmed cases of the virus, the first cases of 2016 and possibly not the last.**

**The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has issued a warning for citizens to avoid the coastal areas of North Carolina, and for locals to stay in their homes and populated places if possible. Malind infected animals have been shown to avoid crowds, and will not attempt to get inside buildings unless provoked in a furious episode. Malind has been shown to cause severe encephalitis in all animals including humans, and sometimes death.**

**The North Carolina Health Department said it still believes that infected animals are very few and only occurring in Dare County. The state said it has just begun testing the local population of pets and humans for Malind, and is organizing feral animal capture efforts in conjunction with the local animal rescues and city animal services.**

**It did not disclose the location of the new case and stressed that one case does not mean active transmission. This outbreak is the first of the year, and within a month already coming close to the total of 7 cases in the continental U.S. from 2015.**

**The continuing Malind outbreak was first detected in 1996 in Kenya, where it has been linked to over 350 cases since across Africa and the Americas. Its resurgence in the U.S. has been anticipated by experts but hoped against. Research, especially pioneered by preeminent awareness leader and Malind positive Dr. Braeden Hux, is ongoing towards a vaccine to protect populations in coastal communities.**

**(Reporting by CDC STAT news)**

 

Hux gently laid the tablet down onto the glass tabletop, replacing it in his hand with his coffee mug. He sipped quietly, relishing the taste of  _ real _ coffee, not hospital garbage.

He looked over the coastline, and took in the rising sun over the water, the scattered gulls and pelicans flying low, and quiet lapping of the water on the sand. He could never live on the water, too messy, but he could appreciate it from time to time. 

A yawn broke the solemn beauty of the moment, but Hux did not turn around. Not a minute later, hands slid over his shoulders and a chin rested on top of his head. 

“Pretty morning.”

Hux took another sip of his coffee. “Yes.”

Kylo tilted Hux’s head upwards until he could place an upside-down kiss on his lips, and as he let go he trailed fingers over the still-healing scar on Hux’s jaw. It ran almost the whole length of the left side, but Hux hoped that eventually with good healing and plenty of scar cream it would fade into the shadow of his jawline and be almost unnoticeable. Kylo seemed intent on touching it, and Hux swatted at the air where his hand had been. 

Kylo chuckled. “It’s not going away. Now you’re like me.” Kylo plopped into the chair on the opposite side of the little round table, gesturing vaguely to his own face. Hux’s eyes did what they always did: right cheek, left cheek, mouth, nose, eyes. Kylo’s spectacular black eye had almost fully faded, leaving only a yellow-green tint that wasn’t obvious in most lighting. It was now, with the sharp relief of the sunrise, and the stretched white skin of the scars across each cheekbone shone. 

“I was already like you,” Hux muttered, turning back to his tablet. He had dreamt memories about what they had done almost every night since he’d been released from the hospital.

 

_ After his heartbeat had sped up to a dangerous rate, the twitches in his limbs turned to outright jerks, and it was impossible to stop the shaking of his jaw, even though it sparked pain from his split skin, dropping thick splatters of blood onto the tile as he leaned forward. His eyes dilating couldn’t be felt physically, impossible, but he had seen Kylo’s widen to black saucers, and the phantom feeling of his own doing the same was present. His fingers clawed and held there, tightened by muscle spasms and the pain of the virus. _

_ There was pain, certainly. The adrenaline seemed to cover it to a point, but his whole body seizing in waves was painful nonetheless.  _

_His head ticked sideways as another gunshot echoed into the room, a hole blown through near the middle hinge. His consciousness was fading, and he used the last of it to desperately stare at Kylo, thinking_ Friend _, and then at the door._ Enemy. _He pushed his hair out of his eyes again, and as it fell back in front he didn’t notice._

_ Crouching, he and Kylo were calm and constantly moving, waiting. The door flew open, wooden shards scattering inwards like the last of his coherent thoughts.  _

Enemy.

_ He jumped forward, leg muscles releasing their spring-tight tension in a flash of pain and heady adrenaline. He slammed the first man through the door with his palms, knocking him backwards and landing almost elegantly on his chest. The man had dropped his gun and went to punch Hux in the face. He scratched at the arm, effectively deflecting it and drawing thin red lines of blood. The man wasn’t deterred and Hux’s focus narrowed down, unaware of the fight happening around him. He shoved his hand into the man’s face, fingers slipping into his eyes and he screamed. Hux snarled in accomplishment.  _

 

“Hux?” 

Hux looked up, the glazed over look in his eyes receding. “What?”

“I’ve been talking for five minutes, and you’ve been staring into space.”

“Well, were you saying anything important?” Hux teased, trying to cover up his discomfort. That kept happening too. He hadn’t been able to escape the memories, unable to push them down like before. He’d never been so aware during an episode. He wondered if it was like that for Kylo.

Hux stood up, stretching and wincing as his abused muscles pulled in different directions. As soon as he could walk (mostly) and talk clearly he’d demanded they be released, as per their contract. The hospital had no choice, despite insisting they should stay and replenish their strength. They’d left for North Carolina the next day, Hux with a wide white patch of gauze taped over his stitches, and Kylo limping through the airport terminal. Like hell they were gonna drive in such a poor physical state, and Hux had plenty of money. Apparently Kylo did too, as he forced Hux out of the way to pay for his own ticket. Hux raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask.

He’d never been feral for so long before, either. The pain as he woke up from the tranquilizers had been impressive, and had lingered for the week since. He probably needed a masseuse and a chiropractor, neither of which he had time for at the moment. 

His lab techs and equipment showed up two days after they had arrived, and they set up in several rented out motel rooms. The crew was staying there, while Hux and Kylo had prepaid for two weeks in a bed and breakfast a few miles down the beach. It was frivolous, but Kylo insisted that Hux needed  _ something _ relaxing during this endeavor, and Hux secretly wanted to see what Kylo was like, outside hospitals and violent confrontations. 

He was...calm. Quiet. Still alternating between a smartass and cryptic as all hell, but otherwise fairly relaxed. He lounged about when they were in their room, and didn’t often get in Hux’s way. Kylo followed him around incessantly outside, but he always was a shadow, unless it was to drop a tidbit of information or opinion, and they were usually surprisingly appropriate. It was entirely unlike feral Kylo, but no one could be expected to even look human during those times. 

 

_ Hux was kneed in the gut, and as he doubled over briefly his head twitched to the side. He saw Kylo, recognized him, and was hit with a rush of something like excitement. Nonspecific, only suddenly there and spurring him onward. Kylo was distracted, face buried in a man’s shoulder where blood was pouring from between his teeth, and didn’t look at Hux. Hux saw the butt of the gun connect with the back of Kylo’s head and Hux yelled in rage the same moment Kylo howled in pain.  _

_ Hux went for the man holding it, toppling him over and grabbing his arms, digging nails in hard and ripping back, disconnecting them from the sockets while gouging chunks of skin from his wrists. He was deeply satisfied by the man’s cry, but would be more so if he stopped making noise entirely. He swooped down, grabbed the prominent adam’s apple between his teeth, and pulled. It came loose with the unique sound of tearing skin and as he spit it aside he heard someone retching behind him. The man in front of him was bleeding profusely, he was dead soon if not already. Time to move on. In a quick twist, he flipped around on all fours and looked for the source of the new noise.  _

_ Kylo got to it first, sliding forward on the now slick tiles and grabbing an ankle in his wide hand. He yanked, and the vomiter came down into his own mess, but Kylo was undeterred. A flailing arm managed to connect a fist with his face and he reeled back only for a moment, growling and baring his teeth. He snatched the still moving limb and wrenched the fist backwards, where it cracked. Kylo caught the other arm in his mouth, and began ripping out pieces of flesh as he pressed it to the floor. The man’s legs kicked futilely, Kylo sitting heavily on his hips, like holding a snake by the back of the head. But this man was no snake, not even a minor threat to them.  _

 

Kylo huffed at him. “No. But if you aren’t going to pay attention I’ll go get breakfast without you.”

“Oh please.” Hux replied. “You aren’t even dressed.”

Kylo looked down at his boxers. “So?”

Hux gave him a droll look. “You’re going to go into the common area in boxers?”

“And my bracelet.” Kylo jingled the little links of metal around his right wrist. “That should be plenty.”

Kylo had asked Hux if he was going to wear his medical identification bracelet, as he watched Hux pack up his room in the long-term wing. Their flight was only four hours away, and so Hux was somewhat hurried, but this gave him pause. It was still sitting in his pocket, in the little plastic bag of his personal effects that the hospital had handed back to him. He slowly pulled out the bag and peered at it. Then, he opened it. 

“I’ve been wearing it recently, and I don’t know how stable I’ll be.” He didn’t need to say  _ since the operation.  _ He pulled the bracelet from the bag. “And frankly, anyone who matters will know soon enough. You wanted me to own it.”

Hux looked at Kylo, who nodded. 

“Alright.” He clipped the bracelet back on. “Then this is the next step.” 

Kylo had disappeared into the hospital while he finished packing, and when they met outside to catch their taxi, Hux noticed a matching bracelet, little yellow symbol and all, on Kylo’s wrist. He didn’t say anything, but his heart swelled with fondness. For the beast to leash himself for Hux, that meant something. 

In the present, Hux rolled his eyes. “How about I go get it, and you get dressed. We have to leave soon anyways.”

“How soon is soon?” Kylo got up, stretching his arms and wincing with the same exasperated look Hux did. 

“About two hours? We need to meet the team to start searching and setting traps in the next quadrant. I have to meet with another rescue afterwards. These morons can’t tell a dead animal from a rabid one, let alone one with Malind.”

“How about we get breakfast to go on the way out? Then we’d have more time.” 

Kylo sidled up to Hux, long fingers stretching out and over his abdomen, sliding up the sides of the dark green shirt that matched his eyes. 

“No. We aren’t going to be late.” 

Kylo looked down his nose at Hux, stepping close and pressing his height advantage. Hux wanted to clock him. He learned very quickly that even with them on the same side, that urge would never go away. Hux fought to keep his eyes on Kylo’s face, tracing his birthmarks, rather than letting them slide down his firm and very exposed chest. Kylo was a menace in every way.

Hux pushed him away gently, detangling himself before he did something stupid. Something  _ else _ stupid. He was fairly sure he’d filled his stupid quota for the year. “Get dressed.” He said quietly. Kylo gave him a horridly crestfallen expression. He’d been trying, very unsubtly, to get back in Hux’s pants since they’d arrived in North Carolina. But Hux was tired, busy, and neither of them was really well enough for it. Give it one more day, he told himself as he turned away from Kylo, fingers playing gently over his arm and the bite scar he refused to cover. 

Not that Hux hid much now, either. His shirts covered his upper arms without intention, but with the sleeves rolled regularly the ends of his own scars stood out near his elbows. The claw marks on his wrists were similarly visible. He wasn’t concerned.

 

_ Their fight, as the wave of enemies slowed, had become more of a back and forth of protecting one another, as a man ran through the door and side kicked Kylo in the leg. His knee popped audibly, and Kylo’s roar had Hux spurring back into action, abandoning the body he was still ripping into. The newcomer was clearly afraid, it was rolling off him in waves coupled with his reluctant posture, staying as far away as he could to kick Kylo. He got another in but it went off the mark, hitting the meat of Kylo’s thigh. Kylo snatched the offending foot and twisted his arm, flipping the kid onto his side with a whump. Hux was on him then, dropping an utterly brutal knee into his ribs, and they snapped under his considerable weight. The scream echoed beautifully and Hux shivered.  _

_ As Kylo and Hux both tore into him, Hux vaguely wondered if there were more. There should be. He didn’t ask himself with anything akin to words, more like abstract feelings of awareness, and didn’t try to share it with Kylo.  _

_ Another man, through the door and as soon as Hux turned to look at him he scrambled back out. Hux chased after and slipped under his arm, pushing him back into the doorway.  A kick to the shin hurt, but not enough. Pepper spray to the eyes certainly did. Hux stumbled back, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head, trying to stop the burning. The spray had gone wide above him, sparing his lungs from a coughing fit. He blinked through automatic tears to see Kylo with his teeth sunk into the the latest man’s neck, crushing skin and tendon and blood vessels between his overly large teeth and clawing at his chest with terrifying strength. _

 

His lab team had been wary of him, obviously treading carefully in the wake of the news of his affliction. As expected, it had spread far enough in the few short days when Hux was gone and then recovering. They had no idea he’d been managing it for the entire time he’d been overseeing them, and it still wasn’t their business. However, they returned quickly to normalcy when Hux treated them with the same cold, sharp manner he always had, allowing no room for uncertainty about who was in charge. Seeing him acting utterly unchanged, they relaxed, even so much as to say they’d missed him the past few months. They didn’t, of course, Hux was a legendary hardass, but the sentiment was appreciated. But he caught them looking at his bracelet, which he had hidden in the first couple years after his diagnosis, and then didn’t wear at all. 

The day dragged on, but Hux was laser focused for most of it. Excitement and anticipation of success blended together to tamp down even his obsessive fidgeting. It was a good thing too, as gyms weren’t really plentiful in the area, and he was mostly too sore for anything but the lightest workout. So did a series of stretches in the morning, walked much of the day, and did enough reps of low intensity free weights at night to feel like he wasn’t losing muscle tone. He knew it was silly to think so, after only a week, but he was very attached to his routine. 

Only two days into their little adventure, Hux had received the call he had been expecting. Kylo sat close as the President of Boston University regretfully told Hux that, despite all he’s done for the school, the good work and money he’s cycled through, the students he’s taught successfully, the committee in good conscience could not abide by the omission of his condition. For the comfort of the students and the integrity of the university, he would have to be let go. He could work through the rest of the semester, and obviously they would give him a good review in his applications. They hoped he succeeded in his future endeavors. 

Hux hung up the call with a polite goodbye, quietly placing it on the white wood nightstand. Kylo placed his hands on Hux’s arm and thigh, silently supportive. Hux began to laugh. 

“What?” 

“Johns Hopkins already offered me a position in virology. I put my apartment on the market for rent in June yesterday.”

“Oh,” Kylo said, then his face broke into a grin, “congratulations, Hux.” 

Hux had grabbed Kylo by the face, pressing a hard kiss to his lips that Kylo answered in kind.

By the end of his day, however, the antsiness had set in. The people at the animal rescues really were quite dim. They couldn’t seem to grasp that animals with Malind weren’t like animals with rabies. One minute they would look and act completely normal, but the next they could be feral. They thought that they didn’t need to be concerned with regular cats, until Hux finally lost his temper and showed his bracelet.

“Do I look normal? Act normal?”

The staff he was speaking to nodded mutely.

“Animals are the same. Catch  _ any _ stray. Cat, dog, ferret, whatever. There is no preferred host. Do you understand?”

They nodded again, and Hux turned sharply on a heel to reconvene with his team, mumbling irritatedly to himself. 

There was a social power in being open with his affliction, he had learned. It gave him a foot ahead of others, and they were more likely to defer to him when the knowledge was coupled with his demeanor. He relished or when it happened, and it had been happening quite a lot lately.

He finished his short meeting, sent his team off to oversee the next few hours of capture, and turned to Kylo who was lounging against the side of the SUV they’d rented. 

“Kylo, let’s go.”

Kylo smiled.

 

_ Hearing a new noise as the latest prey was gurgling on the ground, Kylo and Hux swiveled their heads to the door. Hux backed himself into the room, closer to Kylo as the burning subsided to something he could see through, just barely. Everything was blurry, he had begun to feel weakened, and a thread of fear wormed between the rage as new figures appeared. _

_Hux snarled at the new people, different, carefully filing into the room and fanning around them, stepping over bodies and through puddles of blood. He felt Kylo next to him, warm, twitching._ Friend. Mine.

_ Kylo surged forward and back again as the person nearest him, clad in black and green, raised a gun. Hux was so focused on him he didn’t see the person on his own side do the same. He heard three shots, and looked down as he became aware of pain sharply spreading in his upper chest. Something silver and cylindrical stuck out from his now red shirt.  _

Good job, Hux. _ He heard in his ear, and then the world faded. _

 

Hux sighed. Kylo had been handsy through the ride back to the B&B, handsy during dinner, and handsy as Hux washed up for bed. He’d literally had to slap his hand away. Now Kylo looked a bit kicked, and Hux’s sigh was a suffering one.

“What do you want, Kylo?” 

He got a sly look. “You think you would have learned to stop asking that by now.”

Hux pushed past him to open the sliding door to the patio. “Apparently not. Come sit with me, I won’t be able to sleep yet.”

“Why do you even try?” Kylo asking, pulling off his socks as he followed. Hux left the door open. “You try to sleep like an old man, you’re only…”

Sitting down at the table, Hux glanced back at him. “Really? Thirty-three. Before you ask, thirty-four in September.”

“Ah. I mean I’m-”

“Almost thirty. I know.”

Kylo gave him a raised eyebrow, but didn’t ask, not that Hux would be forthcoming with the information anyways. He sat down opposite, a reflection of their morning. Kylo fiddled with the corner of the newspaper he’d left there. 

“I know you want to talk about it. Go ahead.”

Kylo had not brought up the operation, he hadn’t even really referenced it, other than to linger over Hux’s injuries and resolutely ignore his own. Hux was surprised but grateful. It seemed now though that his good luck had run out, and he was determined to face it with the reins in hand as opposed to caught off-guard by Kylo. 

Eyes lighting up, Kylo sat forward in his seat, paper abandoned as he set his palms flat on the glass. “How did you feel?”

“Are you my psychiatrist?”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know.” It felt good to have a leg-up on Kylo, but his amusement faded as he thought about it. “It felt...different. Unlike times before.”

“Good?”

“Just different.” Hux hadn’t given himself time to process it. He didn’t feel guilty about killing those men, not even slightly. He didn’t regret having the episode in general, and he certainly didn’t regret protecting Kylo, as strange as it was to admit. He knew he could reconcile his somewhat lucid decisions at that time eventually with how he viewed Malind and furious episodes, but not now. He steered away from it. “What was it like for you? What  _ is _ it like for you?”

 

_ Coming back to consciousness was a lesson in pain and perseverance. Hux groaned, finally pulling his eyes open after what felt like hours of pushing through the darkness. His head was splitting in a pounding beat behind his eyes, and he for once thanked the Malind-conscious low lighting choice. He tried to move, to scratch a sudden and unignorable itch on his face, and was stopped by the restraints that he was becoming far too accustomed to. Memories starting flashing to the front of his mind, and he turned his head to either side, looking for Kylo. _

_ “Christ, let me up already,” he muttered, not seeing Kylo immediately. Many side effects of tranquilizers were the triggering factors for an episode, but he couldn’t do so much as tear through tissue paper at the moment.  _

_ The door to the room opened, and in the stabbing pain from the lights in the hallway Hux couldn’t tell who it was.  _

_ “Dr. Hux, good to see you awake. We were getting worried.” _

_ The door closed, and the light-blackened figure resolved into Chromia, now in a brown suit that complimented her hair.  _

_ “Why’s that?” He asked, and then grit his teeth in pain. _

_ “Probably shouldn’t talk, you’ll pull your stitches.” She tapped her jaw as she drew closer to the bed. Her voice was low, and Hux appreciated it dearly as his brain continued to try and break out from his skull. “You were unconscious for thirty-six hours. A long time, but your episode was severe.” _

_ Hux sighed through his nose. It certainly had been. He lifted his head to look past his feet, torso trembling at the effort to tighten his core.  _

_ “Let me help,” Chromia said, her voice soft. She came close and undid the straps on his arms. Hux sat up slowly, the ache spreading steadily through his body as overworked muscles came back into function. Sitting up, he could now see Kylo across the room, asleep in white, marred by his dark hair and a stunning black eye.  _

_ “The operation was a success.” Hux looked back at Chromia, who had fallen back into a military rest. “And you two are to be released as soon as you’re well. We appreciate your sacrifice and hope for the best in your future.” _

_ “Has he woken yet?” Hux mumbled, trying not to move his mouth more than necessary. _

_ “He has. They put him back to sleep. He was trying to get to you, and his knee needs time.”  _

_ Hux didn’t answer, watching Kylo’s chest move under the thin sheet.  _

_ “Thank you again, Dr. Hux. I hope you’ll pass the sentiment to Mr. Ren.” She held a hand out, and Hux gingerly shook it. She left promptly, and Hux sat up watching Kylo until sleep demanded him again. _

 

Kylo took a second to think, then his words came out in a rush that snapped Hux back to attention. “That time specifically? Amazing. Surreal. I knew they were exploring this kind of thing but to be chosen for it? By  _ her? _ That was something unique. And I was with you, which was what I wanted, and I was more aware than I’d ever been before. I think it was because of you.”

Hux was momentarily overloaded, having too many avenues of questioning to pursue. “Pause.” He held up a hand. “You  _ knew? _ ”

Kylo quirked his lips to the side. “....Yes. No.”

“ _ Kylo.” _

“Alright! When you run in the circles I do,” Hux took this to mean the Guard and other unsavory characters, “you hear things. People  _ want _ Malind. They want to use it. We also protect it from being exploited.” He paused, looking vaguely proud for a moment. Hux waved his hand to continue. “But we knew the government was looking. We’re extremely strong in an episode, even bullet wounds won’t stop us. We give up when we’re unconscious or dead. How many soldiers can say that? With the whispers of some people being able to control it, well, a test was bound to happen.  _ But _ I did  _ not _ know they were coming to us.” He stressed the words as if he thought Hux wouldn’t believe him. He did. Above all, Kylo never seemed to lie. Hide things, assuredly, he was a master at that, but not outright lie.

“Second point.” Hux wasn’t going to let Kylo off the hook until he got all the answers he wanted, in plain english. “ _ Her. _ ”

“Captain Phasma. Chromia. That one isn’t her name, it was to conceal her identity. But I knew.”

“Not clearing anything up here.”

“Mmm,” Kylo scratched the scar on his left cheek, “she’s kind of a legend in the Guard. Never been one of us, but she exemplifies all we strive for. Freedom. Control. Power. She’s had Malind for about eight years, as far as we can tell. She worked Special Ops, fighting terrorism in Africa. She got an honorable discharge after becoming afflicted, but secretly kept on. She gets to use her gift on missions, from what we know. Very likely the starting point for the government’s interest in Malind. She…” Kylo by this point had a glazed look of awe, like a kid in front of a toy store, “she’s got everything.”

Hux very much doubted that. On some level they were all chained to the government, and he was no small exception with his grant money, but it seemed Phasma was a well-trained dog in a very large playground. He still had some very different ideas compared to Kylo about Malind. If not using it meant being left alone, he was fine with that. 

“That’s interesting, though unexpected. Alright, last point.” Hux held up a third finger, then self-consciously put it down. It was a bad habit he’d picked up from teaching. “ _ Before.  _ I will likely regret asking. How many episodes have you had, Kylo?”

Kylo leaned back in his chair, looking more shuttered and crossing his arms across his chest. Hux tried very hard not to notice the bulge of his pecs, focusing on the words Kylo began to say. 

“That’s quite personal, Hux. I feel like it’s only fair we trade that information.”

Hux blinked at him. “It’s not a contest.”

Kylo smiled, the encroaching darkness from the newly set sun wrapping him back in that mysteriousness that Hux hated and also had come to be fond of. 

“It’s not. You’d lose. But it is only fair.”

“Well then, no.”

“Does it have anything to do with that scar on your chest?”

Hux was startled by the sudden shift in topic. Apparently Kylo had seen it when they were less than fully clothed. “That...that’s none of your business.” He wasn’t ready to talk about it. He might never be. 

“Okay,” Kylo sing-songed, “then it will remain unknown. We shouldn’t know the best of each other right away anyways.” He winked at Hux, then got up and stretched. “You coming to bed?”

He would never be sure how they’d immediately fallen into something so domestic, but Hux had resolved to enjoy it while it lasted. Soon, Kylo would return to Boston, and Hux would move to Baltimore. Why not let himself enjoy something, before reality came back? “Yes, in a moment.”

Hux caught himself watching Kylo’s backside as he slid back through the door. Maybe he’d let Kylo get his way tonight. What difference did another day make, really?

As the last of the orange color bled from the sky, he got up and followed Kylo inside.

 

_ Twelve Months Later _

**“...With me here I have Dr. Braeden Hux, one of the only people to be actively advocating for Malind research and** **_also_ ** **open about having the condition. We stand outside the grand auditorium where he will soon be speaking on the virus. Dr. Hux, how has life been for you since the unfortunate public reveal of your illness?”**

**“Hello Dana. It’s been busy, mostly. It was surprising to find the front door of my apartment vandalized when I had returned from a six month Malind research trip, but other than that I haven’t had much issue. Malind is a chronic condition, but it can be managed. We are not very different at all from those without, and the inaccurate media portrayal is likely the most detrimental factor to us.”**

**“Since June you’ve gone on quite the tour. In partnership with Johns Hopkins University you’ve gone to ten different universities to present about Malind, and have organized rallies and awareness campaigns across the country. Do you think you’ve found success?”**

**“I do, but results will be slow to see. People with Malind are scared, I believe I haven’t gotten much backlash simply** **_because_ ** **I am so often in the media. The campaigns have often met with protestors, but more often with hooligans trying to trigger someone, or turn it into a circus. I’ve known people to be attacked, kicked out of their homes and lose their livelihood because of their affliction. I want to end that kind of reaction.”**

**“So, you think people with Malind can integrate into society? Even with the threat of becoming feral?”**

**“There’s one thing people have to remember when dealing with someone with Malind. Treat them with respect, and you will be fine. If you trigger them, run.”**

**“What are you thoughts on the recent outbreaks? The estimate is currently 200 new US cases in the past year.”**

**“It’s something my research team is looking into extensively. I believe the wide range of viable hosts is part of the equation, along with multiple transmission routes, and changing climate, but Malind has always been tricky to pin down. There’s too much we don’t know.”**

**“Speaking of research, a year ago you mentioned you were working with immunologists on a vaccine. How is that coming along?”**

**“It’s on hold, currently, at least on my end. The recent outbreak has taken precedence, for the time being. The immunologists are still tinkering with a test vaccine, but my focus has shifted to narrowing down transmission factors, trying to engineer ways to stop the spread at the sources. It’s extremely virulent.”**

**“Fascinating, and we hope to hear more soon. Now I know you need to leave soon, so let’s take this more personal for a moment. People want to know about you, Dr. Hux. You’ve often been seen with a man around your presentations. Is he someone special?”**

**“Yes. His name is Ben Organa-Solo. He’s been very supportive of what I’m trying to do, but prefers to stay out of the spotlight. And before you ask, he is Malind positive.”**

**“Wow, congratulations. We hope for the best between you two!”**

  
**“Thank you.”**  

 

 _Built an empire from a pile of sticks, sticks and stones, sticks and stones_  
_Foundation's made of broken hearts, broken hearts and broken bones_  
_Voices in my head, they screamed "you will lose, you will lose"_  
_In spite, I turned my enemies to my muse, into my muse_  
  
_Gonna count up all the chromosomes, do the math, make a clone_  
_Someone who will understand so I don't feel all alone_  
_Start a revolution and we'll rebel, we'll rebel_ _  
_ Feel all of the things that we never felt and never felt

  
_When you tear it all apart, it's just DNA_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild ride. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me, you know who you are. Thank you to the people who have commented, kudo'd and even gone so far as to message me or send an ask. I deeply appreciate you. This fic is my pride and joy, there will never be another like it. 
> 
> See you in the next fic.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to talk about this thing I am casually obsessed with, or science or kylux in general: vmprsm.tumblr.com


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